Doppelgänger
by Lady Alila
Summary: An attempt is apparently made on Shepard's life and the Normandy crew vow to get to the bottom of it. But not everything's as it seems. The real Jane Shepard is trapped in the Citadel Archives while another usurps her place. -Spoilers for Citadel DLC. Shakarian.-
1. -1-

A/N: Characters belong to Bioware, but how I wish they were mine. Also, this fic doesn't tie into my other Citadel related one, _Aftermath_.

Unlike my other multi-chaptered fics, I'm not starting this because I felt this DLC was a disappointment or something didn't occur in-game. This was my favorite DLC, hands down, with the mission and the clone, the interactions with your friends and love interest afterwards (definitely a fan of the Garrus/Shepard tango :D), and the party.

When I first thought of the initial idea for this fic, I honestly didn't think I could make it work. But my muse being as stubborn as it is, it wouldn't let the idea go and badgered me to just take the plunge. So, here we are and we'll see how it all turns out. Please let me know what you think of it as we go along!

_**Doppelgänger: **__a person's counterpart in the form of a spectral vision; an alter ego or double; in popular culture, frequently depicted as the darker double of a person_

* * *

-1-

When Hackett e-mailed her about Anderson offering her an apartment, she never thought it would be as massive as it was when she walked in the door. Sure, the man had been humanity's representative on the Council, but he never struck her as the type of person who wanted anything more than the basic essentials.

Shepard dropped her overnight bags on the floor beside the door, taking in how warm and inviting the apartment seemed. It was so bright, many watts brighter than most areas on the Normandy, especially her cabin. She could only stare on in amazement just at this opening area. A grand piano at her side, keys shining in the light, practically begging to be played. A fire going in the fireplace at the center of the room, crackling and snapping with a shelf of actual paper books above it. The floor to ceiling windows made the apartment seem even larger than it already was. There was even her little own forest of plants and trees behind glass to her right.

"Commander, I've got Admiral Anderson on the QEC," Traynor's voice resounded around the room from seemingly nowhere. Probably came from the vid-screen to her left. "Patching him through now."

Shepard issued a thanks to Traynor, who was the only one staying behind on the Normandy during their mandatory five-day shore leave, with her having helped with the Normandy retrofits back on Earth. Traynor had insisted she didn't mind staying aboard, but Shepard did get her to promise to take a break once the Alliance techs finished.

This would be their final opportunity before heading to Cerberus headquarters, the first phase to liberating Earth from Reaper occupation.

Shepard punched a few buttons on the console below the vid-screen, Anderson's image revealing itself a moment later.

"Shepard." This was the first time she had seen him outside of the form of a holo-image. She could see the strain in the lines of his face, the sunken eyes all the more clearly, but she also saw the fight in him, to not let the lack of sleep or the stress get to him.

"Anderson," she said, welcoming the sight of him in one piece. "How are you holding up?"

"Day by day, Commander."

"Yeah." She definitely heard that, with all the ups and downs she had experienced during this war. "Hackett sent me a message about this apartment."

"I want you to have it. Take it off my hands."

Shepard stared at him incredulously, thinking for a moment she hadn't heard him right or that he was pulling her leg. "Are you serious?"

"You need a place that's yours. Somewhere to recharge, clear your head."

Even if it is only realistically for a few days, she wanted to ask.

She silently scolded herself. She couldn't think like that.

Shepard headed towards the back of the room, past the fireplace, hitting the button to pull up the blinds along the way, letting in even more light from the marquee signs across the way.

Anderson continued on as she walked, her feet leading her to a bar and lounge area with another, much larger vid-screen, probably for actual vid-watching. Anderson's image appeared on this one so she could still talk to him face to face. "Kahlee wanted us to settle down there. Thing is, the longer I'm on Earth, the less I want to leave. And I want as few loose ends out there as possible. Like I said, you'd be doing me a favor."

Shepard still couldn't believe his offer. Well, she could, but that didn't stop her from feeling guilty about taking it. She knew Anderson, though. He wouldn't take "no" for an answer. "That's very generous," she replied instead.

"It's practical," Anderson stated, not looking to regret the loss of the apartment one bit. "We need you in the best shape possible. Rested, focused." Especially now in the final stretch, she could sense he left unspoken.

"If you say so. Thank you."

"And make yourself at home, damn it," Anderson insisted. "It's yours now."

Shepard leaned over, looking down the hall at what looked to be another bar, some kind of card table, another fireplace, and shelves upon shelves of bound books. Not to mention how spacious the kitchen looked. Vega would have a field-day cooking there. "I'm sure I can manage."

"Good," Anderson said, relieved that was one less thing to worry about. "I've been meaning to do that for awhile. I'll talk to you soon."

Shepard faced him, wanting to give him more than a simple word of caution, thank him for everything he had done for her, for taking her under his wing, but the time for those parting words wasn't there yet. With any luck, she wouldn't have to say them for a final time until years after this was all over. "Be careful out there, Anderson."

"You too, Shepard," Anderson said softly, shooting her a fatherly look of concern before signing off.

She strode back over to the door and grabbed her bags, ready to tour around the rest of the apartment, glancing into the bedroom on the bottom floor (which had a punching bag and pull-up bar) and the kitchen before heading upstairs. She still couldn't get over the size of this thing, even for two people. All of her squad could sleep in here, though they'd have to take turns between the beds and couches. Though as she explored the upper floor, she didn't think that would be much of an issue. There definitely would be enough space. Not that she planned on doing that. She'd be glad to have them over, hang out, but the others were staying in hotel accommodations set up by Hackett.

Except, of course, for Garrus.

Speaking of which, he should have finished up by now and be on his way. Even as the Alliance techs boarded, he still insisted on staying another hour to make sure the guns weren't messed with, finish up with last minute algorithms. She had tried telling him that even if he entered them, they might screw them up and he'd have to enter them again, but he wouldn't budge. Who was she to break her turian away from his calibrations?

She entered the bedroom on the left side of the hall, jaw almost dropping to the floor when she spotted the jacuzzi tub bubbling away. What didn't this place have?

An alcove to her right held a weapons bench fastened to the wall and a place to store her armor. She hadn't needed to bring it or her two guns of choice (they certainly weighed down the one bag, especially with the Widow in there), but she still felt better having them nearby for the next few days. In case Cerberus decided to surprise them and attack again for a second time. Or even better, if the Reapers did. Still strange they didn't go for the Citadel right away, when cycle after cycle they did. Maybe that was a good sign?

She _had _to stop thinking about them. Harbinger, the Illusive Man, even if for a few days. This was her shore leave, maybe her last. She was going to make the most of it.

She was just storing her armor away when she heard a faint ping from the floor below that continued incessantly. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard an automated message play for her about a new message at her terminal.

Garrus, perhaps?

She took the stairs two at a time to the library/study, pulling up the message at her terminal. It was from Joker, inviting her to dinner at some sushi place on the strip nearby in about an hour and a half. That sounded like a good idea. She couldn't even remember the last time she had sushi. Liara had gone there once when they had been on the Citadel a month or so ago and she had raved about it, though apparently the ambiance was a major attraction, their floors actual fish tanks filled with fish from all corners of the galaxy.

Hopefully they took better care of their fish than she did. To be fair to herself, none had died since she had finally remembered to buy that automated feeder…about two weeks ago.

She heard another ring as she finished reading the message, this time coming from her omni-tool. She accepted the incoming vid-link and a rectangular vid-screen materialized above her wrist.

"Hey, big guy," she greeted at the sight of her turian. "You heading over yet? You're not going to believe the size of this apartment when you see it."

"Define soon by your standards." Upon closer inspection, she saw he was still in the main battery, rubbing his neck, looking at her apologetically with wide eyes. He just looked like someone who knew he was about to be in big trouble with his significant other. Lucky for him, he had fallen in love with one who wouldn't flip a gasket. At least right away.

Shepard crossed her free arm over her chest. "Alright, what did you do, Garrus?" she asked with a sigh.

Garrus shook off his ashamed act and pretended to look affronted. "Have a little faith, Jane."

"Oh, I do, no one I trust more. But I also know you too well. Let me guess, you insulted an Alliance technician and you have to do the checks yourself?"

Garrus ran his hand over his fringe now, back to having a chagrined expression on his face. "Not entirely. I was finishing up when he came in like he owned the place, demanding I leave and let him work. I was packing up while he began poking around and was just about to step out when he commented on how he found a major flaw in my algorithms and well…let's just say I may not have taken that well."

Shepard buried her face in her hand. "Garrus…"

"The best part is, after he stormed out, turns out he was right. Don't know how I missed it. It's a fairly simple fix, but it'll still take a little while longer." The sheepish look only deepened on his facial plates, his mandibles now twitching. "Sorry, Jane, I'll try to get done with it as soon as I can."

Shepard couldn't stop shaking her head. She didn't have the heart to be frustrated with him. This was so typical Garrus and she wouldn't have him any other way. "Don't worry about it, big guy, just get it done so we have nothing to worry about over our leave. And lucky for you, Joker invited me out for a night on the town in about an hour and a half, so you're not leaving me all by myself."

"Good to hear. Tell him not to keep you out too long. I've got plans for us tonight once I'm done."

Her eyebrow rose, lips forming in a flirtatious smile. "And what exactly do you plan on doing with me, Vakarian?"

He gave her his own wide grin, his eyes barely hiding his intentions. "That's for me to know and for you to find out, Shepard," he drawled, lowering his voice in a way he knew Shepard couldn't resist. "But I'll be bringing the good stuff." He reached down to hold up a wine bottle under his work station.

Shepard chuckled. It would definitely be a good night. "Looking forward to it, Garrus."

They signed off, with Garrus re-affirming his promise to get done as quickly as possible and Shepard giving him the access code to the apartment in case he finished early and she wasn't there.

Shepard blew air through her lips, playing with a few strands of hair falling into her eyes. Now how would she kill an hour and a half? Read one of those books Anderson had on the shelves? Watch a vid? Clean up her backlog of messages that she never deleted?

She was too wired to sit still. Maybe she'd go and explore this Silversun Strip area, check out the arena, maybe the casino. She hadn't played quasar in ages, a game she had a strong love-hate relationship with.

Decision made, she headed back upstairs to change into her Alliance crewwoman's outfit, feeling a little too warm to be wearing her hoodie. Once satisfied everything was stored away properly, she locked the door behind her, heading down the hallway to her private elevator.

The answer to how she would spend her time presented itself when her omni-tool beeped at her again just as she reached the elevator. Her brow furrowed when she saw the sender name flash on her tool. A Staff Analyst Maya Brooks from the Alliance. She was tempted to ignore it, but she honestly had nothing better to do with her time, so she accepted the link.

"Commander Shepard?" The dark-skinned woman was wearing standard officer uniform, cap and all. "My name is Maya Brooks. Excuse me…" She offered a quick salute. "Staff Analyst Maya Brooks. I work for Alliance intelligence. Are you out? Sorry if I'm interrupting anything. Didn't know if you were still on duty, not that I could really wait…I mean…" She seemed like she was struggling to take deep breaths.

Shepard stepped into the elevator while she continued talking to the woman, delaying pushing the down button. "It's alright, you're not interrupting. What's going on?" she assured the woman, who was struggling to calm herself down.

"Sorry, I'm used to working by myself at a desk, I don't really talk to many people, especially not the legendary Commander Shepard." She took another shaky breath to steady herself. "I know Cerberus has become a top priority for the Alliance and well, I think…I might have found something. In the Citadel Archives, that might be of use to you."

Shepard hadn't even known an archives existed, though it certainly made sense, with the thousands of years of history. All of it needed to be catalogued somewhere. "I should put you in touch with Admiral Hackett. He's organizing the assault on the Cerberus headquarters. He'd probably want to hear it himself."

Brooks bit hard on her lip, playing with it between her teeth, a habit all too similar to Shepard's. "It's not really something I can talk about on an unsecure channel. Nor is it something I can easily explain without something tangible backing it up." She gave a deep and weary sigh. "Truth is, I haven't technically found it yet. I know what I'm looking for, I just…can't get in without access."

"You need my Spectre code, then?" Shepard asked, filling in the blanks.

"Ye-yes, Commander," Brooks stuttered, looking like she expected Shepard would say no automatically. "I know it's not a lot to go on and I'm asking a lot, but could you just meet me outside the Archives? I can explain everything and you can judge for yourself whether it's worth the time."

She still had about an hour and twenty-five minutes to kill. Why not check it out, see if the intel could be of any use? What's the worst that could happen?

Shepard finally pushed the button to get the elevator moving. "Alright, give me the coordinates for the Archives, I'll meet you there."

* * *

_She and her mercs hung in the shadows, waiting for the signal from Brooks to move into the Archives. Not only to find the vault she was looking for, but to set up the trap. _

_Shepard wouldn't know what hit her._

_Even before the call to Shepard, Brooks had tried one more time to convince her to change the plan back to its original form with the straight-out assassination attempt. They were risking a lot to do it this way. There would be fewer complications to just let Shepard meet up with the pilot at the sushi restaurant, force her in the direction of the ambush at Cision Motors, make everything nice and clean. _

_Brooks had even tried arguing they were wasting resources (not that Brooks cared about their lives, just that they couldn't afford the drop in numbers), but she knew Shepard. Despite her inferiority, she would not go down without a fight. Those mercs would have died, anyways. What did it matter if it was by her hand or Shepard's?  
_

_She wouldn't broker any arguments. It had to be done this way._

_Brooks would never understand, this need to know. Know why Shepard's crew followed her so fervently, without question, to abandon their duties so willingly to join the cult of Shepard. _

_She was superior to Shepard in every way. Shepard was nothing more than a tired old woman past her prime. She felt she could actually stop the Reapers and Cerberus, bring humanity to the forefront like it should have been. The opportunity Shepard missed, let pass her by when she first became the first human Spectre, the prime moment for humanity to assert its dominance in the galaxy and how did she spend it? Playing nice with the aliens!_

_Despite that, she couldn't shake it, that nagging feeling in the back of her mind, like something was missing. And she couldn't pinpoint it._

_This was the only way to find out what that was, before she had Shepard's squad killed. Especially the aliens. __Their accomplishments, their abilities, meant absolutely nothing to her. _The thought of Shepard aiding them, willingly accepting their help, filled her with such disgust.  


_So lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard the chime of her omni-tool at first. _

_A message from Brooks. She had reached Shepard and she was on her way. _

_Her hands curled around her rifle all the more tightly. She barked an order at her nearby lieutenant to ready the mercs for the infiltration into the Archives, told him to be quick about it or he'd be out on his ass before he could even blink. _

_She had been waiting for this day for months, to look the woman she was created from in the face, take pleasure in proving herself the true Commander Jane Shepard. _

_It wouldn't be much longer now._


	2. -2-

A/N: A big thank you to HeidiM2574, Emerald's Vengeance, a Guest reviewer, Zephyros-Phoenix, Bluumberry, and CommanderHawke667 for your reviews, and those who have favorited or followed this crazy experiment of a story! I'm excited to be back working on it after focusing on my Omega one and I'm just as excited to see where it goes from here.

* * *

-2-

The Archives wasn't far from her apartment, conveniently enough, but the floodgates of traffic hell themselves seemed to have opened on the way there. She was by nature a patient woman, but patience seemed to depart from her without so much as a farewell when she went behind the wheel of any vehicle, as past and current squadmates could attest to. She thought about zooming around cars, possibly going the wrong way just to pass them, but her friends and mate would kill her themselves if she got in an accident (assuming she wasn't killed in the process). So there she crawled, inch by inch, to get to the exit she needed for the Archives.

She tried occupying her time fiddling around with the radio to pass the time, but she couldn't really settle on a station she was dying to listen to. In the end, she left it on a station which played human classical music from centuries past. She remembered her father had listened to a station similar to that on Mindoir (not that they had many options beyond a few feeds the colony broadcasted) on a frequent basis and could tell who the composer was just by the style of the composition. The only one she ever remembered him getting wrong was one by Mendelssohn, though she couldn't remember for the life of her what the name of the piece was. Suppose it didn't really matter now.

She tapped her finger against the wheel, breathing a sigh of relief when she was finally able to turn and could go at a much faster velocity. This was already taking her a lot longer than she had wanted. She now had about less than an hour until she was to meet up with Joker. For all she knew, Brooks's intel could turn out to be nothing more than a wild goose chase, but after what she saw on Horizon, those experiments the Illusive Man ordered on all those vulnerable people, they could not afford to be caught off guard. Any clue they had on Cerberus's plans was a boon for them.

From the turnoff, it didn't take much longer until she reached the Archives, which didn't look like an imposing building on the outside or even large enough to hold the records of all the species from thousands upon thousands of years of history. It wasn't really anything more than a grey and square-shaped building. Still, Shepard parked the skycar in front with the few others there in the lot, the engine spouting out a final hum at her as it shut down. She released the hatch to the door, hopping out of the seat and closing the door behind her.

She first had to pass through a security scanning system, establishing her biometric id. Once completed, the synthetic voice emitting from the machine droned at her to proceed to the front desk to sign in and remind her that no firearms were allowed on the premise at any time.

She was dumped into a long hallway, one that seemed to stretch on for miles. Just as she reached the door, she noticed the lock on the door sporadically switching from light orangish to green, like it couldn't make up its mind what it wanted the state of the door to be. She raised her omni-tool to keep it green, not thinking much of it, that it was just a malfunction.

"Alert. The Citadel Archives is currently under lock-down. All personnel should not attempt to engage and remain in a secure location until the lock-down has been lifted."

Why couldn't she go anywhere without there being an incident? Was it really too much to ask for things to go simply for once? Meet with anyone without bullets being involved?

Shepard waited until she activated tactical cloak to open the door, in case any enemy mercs were standing guard inside. The door opened to an open space, stuffed with many desks at its center, all completely empty. The floor was scattered with discarded papers and datapads and overturned coffee mugs on a few desks, the remaining liquid flowing to the floor in droplets. An alarm was going off in a synchronized rhythm like a church bell ringing in the hour. She quickly scanned the room and saw no signs of mercs anywhere, no sound from other doors of their approach, nothing on her radar.

The cloak dissipated and she stepped into the center of the room cautiously with light steps, so if someone was nearby and completely undetectable, they would be less likely of her presence. Her heart sunk at the sight of two bodies lying on the ground at desks close by, but at least it hadn't been a total bloodbath. Whoever had come here hadn't been interested in that.

"Commander. Over…here," a weak voice whispered to her right. She looked down to see a lone figure struggling to crawl out from under a desk, clutching at her bleeding side. Shepard went over and helped her, gently propping her up against the desk and applying medi-gel to the wound.

"Are you Brooks?"

Brooks gave a shaky nod, hissing when she tried to shift to a more comfortable position. "They came out of the nowhere, Commander. They locked the building down before people could leave. I think a lot of the archivists went into safe rooms. Tried to hide, but wasn't fast enough."

Shepard finished applying the first wave of medi-gel and started on the second, her last batch. "Who? Who did this? Was it Cerberus?"

"I…I don't know… they didn't dress like Cerberus. They wore darker armor, kind of camouflagey, nothing with the Cerberus emblem on them, but maybe they were, to avoid being detected, with the coup and everything," Brooks said, able to talk more steadily than before.

Shepard stood up, finished with the med-gel dispensation. "Does it have anything to do with that intel you were telling me about?"

"I-It must, don't know what else it could be…" Brooks's head fell into her hands, smearing the blood from the hand she had at her wound all on her forehead. "God, I can't believe I was…how could I be so stupid? I knew your files were compromised, I shouldn't have contacted you, I should have realized your comms …"

"Wait, Brooks, slow down, what are you talking about?" Shepard demanded firmly but as gently as she could manage to break Brooks out of her ramblings.

"Two days ago, we had a security breach on numerous personnel files, including yours. At first, my superiors dismissed it as the work of some random hacker who's had a record of hacking Alliance databases in the past just for kicks, but I wasn't as convinced. So I did my own digging."

"So how did you go from finding out about me to this intel?"

"I was able to trace back to the device that purloined your personnel records and reports. There was no name or address, and it was not an easy feat to bypass the firewalls. I couldn't get far before I was pushed out, but I was able to extract a file. No audio, no video or anything, just a small note, mentioning something about how no one suspected "the package" at a base in the Artemis Tau cluster had been removed.

"On the face, it could have meant nothing, but there was just a feeling. You know that feeling you get, that tingling sensation in the back of your head..." Her face fell slightly then. "I probably sound like a weirdo or worse, like I was being indoctrinated."

"No, I understand what you mean." That unexplainable feeling you got, when you knew something was wrong, but you had no logical reason to feel that way. "So what did you find?"

"Alliance intel picked up on some raid on a Cerberus base in the Artemis Tau cluster less than a year ago by asari commandos from Thessia. I don't know what they thought they found, but it was enough for Cerberus to kill all the commandos. When reinforcements arrived, the entire facility was torched. The only other thing the Alliance intel stated was that whatever Cerberus had been working on was destroyed. No trace recovered."

"But you think they had it stowed away?"

Brooks nodded, her face giving off a soft glow, looking like she hoped with every fiber of her being Shepard believed her.

"So why come here? What did you hope to find?"

"Classified files are constantly sent to the Archives to be processed and stored. What better place to keep them? I was hoping maybe there was a separate report created, maybe not just the official one, just something to back up my gut feeling. And whoever came here, they're here for the same thing, I'm sure of it now. I don't know if it's Cerberus or defectors, but whoever it is, they're very interested in this. And you. They want to keep this a secret."

Cerberus had committed pretty much every possible crime one could against a person. What would they possibly deem so important to hide this badly? Especially after the coup, as Brooks pointed out. Shepard knew the Illusive Man wasn't in his right mind, but was he even this suicidal?

Unless…unless they were defectors. It could be possible. Jacob, Miranda, Brynn, Archer, all those scientists were proof of those breaking away from Cerberus. Who was to say that someone who agreed with the Illusive Man's ideology but not his methodology wouldn't cut ties? Staff disappearing and people being turned into husks really wasn't the greatest business model to prevent turnover. But why go to all this trouble, make their activities so obvious? Why bring the mercs, cause this senseless destruction and violence if all they wanted was intel? Unless that wasn't the only thing they were after.

Questions that Brooks didn't have the answer to. Questions that would have to be answered by finding the record herself, at least as a start.

Shepard had her omni-tool out and active again. "We need to contact Commander Bailey, let him know what's going on."

Brooks shook her head, her long ponytail going back and forth between slapping her shoulders. "I tried contacting C-Sec. Nothing is going through. All external communications have been shut down or blocked. Whoever did this has been planning this for months. This wasn't a rushed job. Maybe…maybe they had inside help!"

A tiny ping from the direction Shepard had come had her attention turned towards the door, the circle a deep taunting red.

"Damn it, the door's finally locked behind us." She turned back to Brooks. "Were you able to find out where the record would be stored?"

"No. No sooner had I gotten off the call with you, the facility was being attacked and everything went to hell."

Guess she was on her own for the moment.

"Can you stand? Can you walk?"

Brooks used the desk corner to lift herself up on her feet, not before sweeping her cap from the floor and placing it securely back on her head. "Should be alright now with the medi-gel. Thanks for that, by the way. Hope I won't get too jumpy..." she trailed off.

"It was no problem. Listen, find a way out of here and contact C-Sec. Also, if you can, get in contact with the Normandy, tell them I sent you and that I need back-up at the Archives."

Brooks clutched the edge of the desk again to steady herself. "But…but I got shot just coming here. What if they are more of them outside? What if I get ambushed?"

Shepard laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You survived this long. The entrance isn't too far. And maybe you can find a way to get the door unlocked. You seem to be good at hacking. You can do this," she said, trying to reassure her.

The fear didn't completely disappear from Brooks's eyes, but it was a little dimmer and she released the desk from her death grip. "Ok. Contact C-Sec, then contact the Normandy. Contact C-Sec, then the Normandy." She wrung her hands. "Anyone in particular I should ask for?"

"Either Specialist Samantha Traynor or a turian named Garrus Vakarian. Those are the only two currently on the ship. Tell them to contact my pilot, that I won't be able to make that dinner afterall." No sense in letting Joker wonder where she was, though she doubted Joker would be crestfallen over a cancelled dinner when he found out where she was.

And Garrus…he had been so excited with whatever it was he was planning. Guess that would have to be put on hold for the moment too. She guessed Garrus would either strangle her for doing this alone or feel extremely guilty for not being with her in the first place. Actually, both possibilities were really bad.

"Ok. Ok, got it. I can do this." She took a deep breath, gulping down the air in a similar way as Mordin did. Her eyes then widened. "Wait, what about you? You don't have a weapon or anything."

"I'll be fine. I've faced worse." Usually not without a weapon, though. Least she had the ability to turn invisible at her beck and call. That tech power had gotten her out of a lot of hot situations more times than she could count.

A slow blush crept to her cheeks. "Of course you have, you're Commander Shep-sorry, Commander, I didn't mean to imply you weren't capable, course you are." She sounded close to hyperventilating again. It was true, then, that she didn't really interact with many people.

"It's fine, Brooks, but you need to stay calm and alert. Now tell me where I need to go."

"Just that way," Brooks pointed straight ahead. "To the front desk. Past security, you should be able to pull up an index of the records and where they're located. Look for raids on Cerberus bases by asari commandos in Dec 21…no, Feb-, _January_ 2186. I think."

That was a pretty vague topic to type into a search engine. "What if I can't find it?"

Brooks tapped her pointer finger against her chin. "The records are either organized by subject or by year, can't remember which, but that should help give you a general idea of where to look."

Shepard's ears perked up at some raised voices she heard behind a door to her left. She grabbed Brooks by the arm and pushed her back under the desk. Brooks flinched presumably at the sudden movement to her wound and clutched at it, but she didn't let out a peep. After a moment, the voices died down, away from the room until nothing could be heard but the beeping of the computers and their own heavy breathing.

"Go now, while you can," Shepard urged her.

Brooks darted up, still holding onto her side. "I will, Commander. Good luck and please be careful."

Shepard went off in the direction Brooks had pointed her in, activating tactical cloak again so she wouldn't be caught off guard. Again, she was fortunate enough there were no guards around. Maybe they were too busy trying to find whatever it was they were looking for.

Shepard passed through the blue security field around the corner without tripping any alarms and dashed over to a nearby computer, expediently not locked down. She typed in the keywords "asari commando," "Cerberus raid," 2186" in the respective search fields. She came up with fifteen different results, but all seemed to be located in the same area. She clicked on the map icon near the record number to see where she needed to go.

Luck was on her side for once. It wasn't far once she passed through the security doors to her left. Some moving up and down between platforms, but she could handle that. She copied the location to her omni-tool to add to her radar

Least that's what she told herself until she unlocked the doors with her Spectre code and stepped into a room with vaults as far as the eye could see. Vaults that looked eerily similar to the stasis pods back on Ilos stacked on top of each other. There seemed to be no floor, only more and more vaults. How could only a handful of archivists maintain all of this?

"Okay, first I take a left up the stairs here," she reminded herself. "Then I go right...or was it down one flight of stairs first then right?" Guess she'd have to religiously check her radar.

She walked under the protection of her cloak as much as she could, keeping her eye out for movement. The cloak may have hidden her, but it didn't silence her footsteps on the metal catwalk by any means.

She tried to keep track of all the twists and turns so she'd know how to get back out, but she could only keep everything straight in her mind for so long without her brain overloading. She encountered two bands of mercs before she reached the door she needed to go through, but ducked behind nearby crates and waited until they passed. Maybe she should have tried to disable one, get ahold of his gun, but that wasn't the purpose. All she needed to do was get the intel and get out as quickly as possible. Then find out who was responsible for this.

It took some more twisting and turning once through the door, bypassing records thousands of years old on any subject imaginable until she was in the area the database claimed the record was located in. She found it strange there were no mercs around within range. With how simple it had been for Shepard to find this, she would have thought someone would have beaten her to it. But she had to file that concern away for later, once she checked to see if the terminal had been wiped clean.

She approached the nearby console, almost blinded by the aqua blue light in the circular area that contained the record, scrolling through until she located the file she needed. It hadn't been deleted.

There was no video, only audio, but an image of an asari commando materialized in the center of the room, just for the purpose of having a visual aid.

"Sure…saw a person…stasis?" The audio was clearly damaged and cut in and out frequently. Shepard still resolved to listen to it, determined to figure out why this file would be so important.

"Yes...no good look…Cerberus…files vague…some kind…super soldier…engage and extract…heavy resistance…need back-up," the commando explained over the roar of gunfire.

Super soldier? Not surprising, given the nature of Cerberus's experiments with perfecting their armies and implanting their soldiers with Reaper tech, but why did this feel different to Shepard? Why did she get a chill down her spine? What did this attack have to do with her files being hacked?

"Acknowledge…sending…within few hours…"

"No!" the commando cried. "Need now…any…area…not Cerberus…defectors…Goddess…!"

The feed violently cut off, with the other person on the end calling out to the commando and receiving nothing but static in response.

Shepard cycled to the next file in the cue, listening as another asari commando recited her report. She was one of the reinforcements that came too late. All the commandos had been killed in action and the entire facility was up in the flames, looked to be set by the unidentified hostiles themselves, killing themselves and wiping away any evidence of their experiments and this super-soldier. All the bodies were too badly burnt to be properly identified. The asari government claimed they would investigate the matter, but the asari commando seemed skeptical anything else would be done.

It still wasn't a lot to go on nor was it really much of anything to be of use against whoever was attacking the Archives. The trail had gone cold fast. Brooks would be disappointed to hear that, she really thought she had had something. But she had certainly laid some good groundwork. At least they now had some idea what Cerberus had been working on.

Shepard was even more convinced. This wasn't the only thing they were here for, but she had no earthly idea what else or where she could look. Maybe try to find evidence of another raid, maybe follow up with the asari councillor to see if she could find out anything? If she even wanted to face Shepard after the disaster that had been Thessia, not to mention the state of chaos Thessia itself was currently in. Getting any intel from there would be difficult.

The best thing for her to do now was wait for C-Sec or Garrus. Hopefully he'd bring the rest of the squad with him; he wouldn't rush off the Normandy just because she might be in trouble.

On the other hand…

Shepard began to attempt pulling the data off the console to her omni-tool when something bright flashed across the corner of her eye. She didn't have enough time to react. The plasma round hit her right on the omni-tool and her unprotected wrist and hand, searing the skin and frying the omni-tool in the process. Before she had time to clutch her hand or for the pain receptors to spark in her nervous system, she was struck in the back of the head, forced down on her back by an invisible weight to her chest.

"Did you honestly think you could get in and out without anyone noticing?" The person was a woman, that much was clear, despite its lower timbre. Yet why did it sound so familiar, so close to home? Where could Shepard have heard it before?

"Seemed as good a plan as any," Shepard threw out a retort, trying to roll around and get the weight off her to no avail. She was still too dazed and limp. She settled for giving a piercing stare at what she thought was the faint outline of the woman's body.

The woman gave a cold laugh. "You're good, but you're nowhere in the same league as me. You didn't even see me coming, did you?"

Shepard didn't rise to the taunt. "You got lucky. Don't think you can hide behind that fancy cloak of yours forever."

"Hide? Why?" The person's own tactical cloak faded away to reveal herself and Shepard's mouth fell open with a shocked gasp. She had to be hallucinating. She blinked once, twice, third, then a final fourth time. It was a trick of the light, her eyes were still trying to get their bearings after being hit in the back of the head.

It had to be. This wasn't possible…

The woman's facial expression morphed into a dark sneer, one that would never be seen on Shepard's own facial features. Seeing it on an exact replica of them was really freaking her out.

"I'm Commander Jane Shepard," the woman spoke with Shepard's same voice with a much rougher edge. "I never hide."

Definitely not how she was expecting this to play out.

* * *

_She didn't know what she was expecting when she finally looked her counterpart in the face for the first time. She had heard over and over again the stories about Shepard, how larger than life she was, how strong, tough, resourceful she was. A colony kid who rose to become the first human Spectre. But without her armor, her weapons, even her omni-tool, Shepard was nothing more than an ordinary woman with a sharp tongue. She looked so much smaller, weaker…__**pathetic**__._

_Her crew had to have seen Shepard like this, the woman behind the legend. Yet still, they followed her. Why? People followed those who exemplified power and strength. Not just on the battlefield, but off. In all situations, under any circumstance. Staring down in contempt at this woman, her biological twin, all she saw was vulnerability.  
_

_Her mercs rounded the corner, guns at the ready in case Shepard tried to escape. Fools. Shepard was beaten. She wouldn't try to escape, now that her omni-tool was useless. _

_She commanded two of the mercs to drag Shepard to her feet and questioned another on the whereabouts of the vault. The merc apologetically stated they were still looking for it (the Archives was a complete maze and that particular vault was on one of the lower levels, deep in the bowels of the Archives). She didn't want excuses. She wanted that file found. She had to change the biometric logs. She sent the merc on his way with a smack to the head as his reward. Next time it would be far worse than a hand slap to the head._

_Her eyes met Shepard's as her mercs grabbed both her arms. Shepard's sapphire eyes a perfect match of hers, steely resolve resting firmly in them. She was spirited, she would give Shepard that, but it didn't matter. _

_She had seen a glimpse of the woman behind the legend and she was less than impressed. _

_She was more certain than ever before she would do more with Shepard's name than Shepard could ever possibly hope to._


	3. -3-

A/N: I'm finally back with a long-overdue update! While getting a job I really, really wanted is great in many different ways, it's definitely not conducive to writing. Now that I've somewhat settled into a routine, I'll try to get back into a cycle of updating every two weeks. A big thank you to Danie-Dono, Bluumberry, Emerald's Vengeance on Shadows, and SurvivorHawke for your reviews last chapter and to all those who have favorited or followed this story!

* * *

-3-

Of all the crazy things she had seen and done over the years, this could possibly trump them all, even entering the geth consensus and leaping into the depths of an ocean to speak with an aquatic life form millions upon millions of years old.

The only clones she had ever dealt were the ones the Thorian created from the asari, Shiala, but they had essentially been mindless, under the Thorian's thrall, programmed to kill.

Least one thing Shepard's clone had in common with Shiala's ones.

Only the mercs who had lifted her off her feet were following the clone, dragging her along. She could have fought against their grips, wrenched herself away, channeled her survival training she hadn't utilized since her N7 program days when they sent them out into the jungles of Brazil with little food or sleep (just at the N1 level!). However, no matter how hard she tried to keep track of all the hallways and ramps, she didn't have that sturdy of a photo-graphic memory. She wouldn't have gotten far without losing her way. Not the thing to do with mercs roaming around and no gun, no omni-tool and really only one functional hand.

They ended up in a room similar to the one she had found the record in, though this one was much larger and contained desks arranged all throughout the area, with the records located towards the ends. The clone snarled an order and on cue, the mercs tossed her unceremoniously to the floor. Shepard ended up breaking her fall with her left hand without having any time to think the wisdom of that through. Her hand made it quite clear a moment later.

She held her injured hand and wrist up to the light to take stock on how badly that incineration blast seared it. The flesh was already swelling and a screaming red, but no actual scorch marks to the skin, almost like she had put her hand to an oven or stove for an extended period of time. Those Cerberus upgrades had prevented the skin from being stripped away, but they still didn't make the feeling that flames were still crackling against her skin go away.

The clone never broke her piercing gaze locked onto Shepard as she ordered the mercs to leave them, who followed the order without question with a "Yes, ma'am."

"Be thankful it was only your hand," the clone replied just as rigidly and indifferently as before once the mercs were out of earshot.

Shepard took the opportunity to get a better look at the woman who could have been her identical twin, at least appearance wise. She had the same auburn hair with the part on the left side of her head, strands carefully tucked behind her ears. The same thin eyebrows that curved gracefully over her eyes, the same plump lips and straight as an arrow nose. Shepard was pretty sure the clone also had the same shade of bluish-grey eye-shadow on as she did (which was extremely creepy). The one difference (which Shepard was relieved to see one) was the clone's eyes. Yes, they were the same dark blue color as hers, but they lacked any of the warmth that usually would have been in them. The clone's eyes didn't even seem like they had the capacity to ever genuinely possess such warmth.

The clone was wearing the same type of armor as the other mercs, confirming she was their leader, the one in charge of this operation. The armor was nothing noticeable unlike many other merc gangs, with a heavy emphasis on grey camouflage and matching greyish solid shoulder pads, chest plate, and leg bracers. Shepard swore she also spotted a Black Widow strapped to her back and a heavy pistol with a long barrel Shepard had never seen before.

The same types of weapon choices, the same powers as her. Definitely creepy.

Shepard propped herself up on her knees. She wasn't going to lay down on the ground and make it easy for whomever the hell this was impersonating her, no matter how unnerved she was about the whole situation.

"Why did you? Why not burn my body if you wanted to kill me? I have no armor, no proper shielding." Shepard gestured down the length of her body. "It would have been easy."

The clone crossed her arms, placing the weight of her body more on her right side, similar to what Shepard did. "Maybe I'm not interested in easy. If I was, I would have had you go on to that sushi place like originally planned."

Shepard took in the clone's satisfied expression and the realization came to her with the suddenness of a speeding sky-car striking her at full speed. "Joker never sent that e-mail, did he?"

"Of course not, just like you never sent him an e-mail saying to meet him there."

This didn't make any sense. Those e-mails were only sent less than an hour ago. "Why go to all that trouble and suddenly change plans?"

The clone's face was as emotionless as a blank slate, but her narrowed eyes betrayed her. "Not your concern."

Sensing she had reached a firm brick wall on that topic, Shepard chose another route. "So you're the hacker, then?"

"Yes. Not like I really needed to. Not exactly difficult to hear about the exploits and reputations of the _great _Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy."

"The Alliance knows about the hacking," Shepard said, a hard edge entering her voice. "They'll…"

The clone's darkly amused laugh stopped Shepard mid-sentence, filling Shepard with a sense of unexplained dread. "Do they? Didn't you ever to stop to think of the timing of all this? Why you were contacted personally during your shore leave at a time when you'd be alone? Why the Archives happened to be attacked around the time you show up?"

If there had a wall nearby, Shepard's head would have found itself making good friends with it, over and over again.

It had been a trap. All of it. She had let her guard down, not brought any of her guns, any back-up. Trusted Brooks, who had played the part of the inexperienced and unnerved woman well, with her stumbling over words and jumpy nature. And she hadn't seen it, any of it. Maybe paranoia in moderation was a good thing to have, afterall.

"Now you understand, don't you? Brooks isn't with the Alliance; she's with me. She won't be helping you. You're trapped here and not one of your crew knows it. All because you insist on playing the noble hero at every opportunity."

She was right about one thing. Brooks had been the only one who knew she was down there. If Shepard couldn't find her way out, could anyone still find her…?

No, she knew her squadmates. They could do it. They would do it.

"It was all a ruse?" Shepard questioned, choosing to ignore the jab, voice level to sound calmer than she actually felt.

"Not entirely," the clone assured, though Shepard did not have any clue why the clone thought Shepard would be assured by the answer. "We were hacking your comm channels and records. We were hoping to get access to your spectre code, but we found a better way to obtain it."

By luring Shepard here and forcing her to use it to unlock the entrance into the Archives. She might as well have willingly handed the clone her omni-tool herself.

"There was a raid on a defected Cerberus facility by asari commandos," the clone continued. "As you heard, most of the defectors were killed. What Brooks didn't tell you is she was the only one who survived and escaped with the "package" in question. With me." She let out another cold laugh. "Cerberus certainly spared no expense resurrecting you."

This was getting crazier by the second.

"How?" Shepard demanded. "For what purpose?"

"From the same DNA as you. I was created for spare parts, in case you needed another arm or a heart or a lung."

"Where have you been this whole time?"

"In a coma. Until Brooks woke me up eight months ago. While you were in a jail cell on Earth and off fixing the aliens' problems, I was learning all about you and your history, your background. Your personality." She didn't sound impressed by what she had learned in the slightest. "More importantly, I was learning to be human. Amazing what a person can do with enough neural implants, don't you think?" the clone asked breathlessly, drunk on the euphoria of being alive.

"Did the Illusive Man have a hand in any of this?" He had to have known, authorized the clone's creation. Why hadn't he tried tracking the clone down? With Shepard going rogue on him, he should have seen the clone as his major tool in the war.

"No. He believed me destroyed in the raid. Besides, he abandoned me when he had what he wanted. You. He means nothing to me. Him or his indoctrinated slaves."

"Then you know what we're up against. We should be on the same team. It doesn't have to be like this," Shepard said, reaching down to harness her diplomatic skills.

The clone's lips twisted into a grotesque smile with a cocked eyebrow to match. "Playing the diplomat, even when you have nothing to offer?"

"This "diplomat" ended a three-hundred year old war," Shepard defended.

"You shouldn't have even been involved. What concern are the geth or quarians to humanity?" the clone spat, not even hiding her contempt. "But I shouldn't have expected anything less from you. Ever since you joined the Spectres, you've saved more alien lives than you have human." Her repulsion only seemed to grow in spades, just from the mere thought of helping an alien. Further proof this clone had only a superficial idea of who Shepard was.

"I don't care what species they are. Every life counts. If you were really my clone, you'd understand that. But you're nothing more than a pale imitation."

With no effort, the clone grabbed Shepard by the collar, pulling her up so they were practically nose to nose. Shepard had clearly hit a nerve.

"I am the real thing…perfected!" the clone growled, dark eyes flashing with a ferocity of a storm complete with lightening streaks. "I'm you without the wear and tear. The doubts, the failures. I'm the lone wolf you were always meant to be. Without the emotional baggage holding me back."

Despite the forcefulness behind the clone's anger, Shepard couldn't help but allow the small grin threatening to form on her face. "Even if I'm still trapped here, someone will realize what's happening. They'll know you for a fraud. They'll stop you. Unless you do a better job, no one will ever believe you're me."

The clone released Shepard's collar. "They will when I'm flying your ship. As for your crew, I'm well aware I don't have your memories. I'd never fool my supposed friends. Or my turian lover." She sounded like the words themselves were gagging her throat, making her choke on them. "Don't try to deny it. I know more than you think," she replied with greater composure when Shepard began opening her mouth.

She had to have tapped into that omni-tool call from earlier. How else could she have known? It's not as if Garrus and Shepard broadcasted their relationship to the entire galaxy. Or had someone working for the clone been spying on them whenever they were on the Citadel and passing along the intel? Did they notice the stolen glances, the brushes of their hands against the other? Even worse, did they have access to monitoring devices on the Normandy?

A malicious smirk found its way onto the clone's face. "But an assassination attempt on their beloved commander will keep the suspicion off me. I won't need to fool them for long. Just long enough for my mercs to put bullets in their heads when they have their guards down. It'll all be deemed a tragic accident and my mercs will take their places on the Normandy."

Shepard felt the color drain from her face, her body shaking as her own anger released throughout all corners of her body. The clone was going to impersonate her, lure her crew to their deaths because she knew they would recognize the clone's deception somewhere down the line.

Shepard wanted nothing more than to tear this clone's head off and mount it in the Normandy CIC, but she had to get a grip. She was better than this. "It'll be a cold day in hell before someone steals my ship. Or hurts my team!" If this clone even so much as stepped one foot into her cabin or laid a finger on her friends, on Garrus, there would be major hell to pay.

The smug expression on her face grew, witnessing the effect of her words on Shepard. "It's not stealing if I'm you. And don't worry, I'll order my squad to make it quick and painless for them. And just for you, Jane…" Her feral smile grew wider. "I'll shoot the turian in the head myself."

Shepard launched herself at her clone without a second thought like a mother panther at her prey, summoning the strength to spring from the floor. She had lost any semblance of her usually impregnable self-control, like something had snapped within her. All she could focus on was her friends had been threatened. Her mate had been threatened. All by this imposter. And she was going to fight to the last breath to keep them from harm.

The clone sensed Shepard's intentions. As Shepard's body slammed into the clone, Shepard barely got one punch to the lip in before the clone jerked her knee into Shepard's belly, knocking the wind from her. She quickly found herself on the floor, but tripped up the clone with a swipe of her leg over the clone's feet.

With the agility and flexibility of an acrobat, the clone quickly got back on her feet and reached a long arm around Shepard's leg, pulling her back down. Her cheek smacked right into the floor, the indentation of the grout pressing into her cheek. The clone wasted no time in keeping Shepard pinned down, trapping her with both legs between Shepard's body. To drive the lesson not to escape home, the clone's fist made contact with Shepard's cheek, her head twisting right from the force of the blow.

Shepard attempted to delay by latching both her hands on the clone's wrists, possibly even flip her over onto the floor, but she could only grab onto one and even then couldn't hold it for long with her injured hand. Despite beating James, hand to hand was not her specialty, especially during her early days in the military. Garrus had taught her some moves, but her body was betraying her, slowing down, making her sluggish, worsening as the punches kept coming.

"What happened to that paragon nature of yours? What happened to talking your way through?" The clone sneered at her, bite still strong despite catching her own breath and wiping away the blood from her cut lip. "Have you finally realized you're beaten, nothing more than a tired old woman? Are you finally that desperate?"

Shepard tried kneeing her like the clone did to her, but found her knee making contact with solid armor, nothing to protect Shepard's knee but cloth. She bit back a curse at the pain coursing through her knee cap. The clone answered that with another punch to Shepard's swollen cheek.

After a few more solid punches, she finally ceased her assault, content Shepard was down for the count. She then called out to her mercs. They must not have gone far.

"So what happens now?" Shepard croaked, struggling to lift her head, her vision now swimming. Her face felt so swollen now, the discomfort matching that of her hand. Her hair was sticking to her increasing sticky and bloodied face. But she deserved it, all of it, for being so foolish, so reckless. For not being more suspicious. For that moment of carelessness, giving into her anger and fear and possibly throwing away her chance at escape.

How was this clone getting under her skin so much when she hadn't even let Saren or the Illusive Man or even the Reapers succeed in doing so? Why was Shepard allowing her to? What was so different about her, just because she was Shepard's clone?

The clone didn't answer her directly, giving orders to the two mercs from before as they pulled her from the floor none too gently. "Take her down to the lower levels, as far as you are able, to ensure no one could reach her." Not that that mattered. No one knew she was down there. "Find a suitable vault for her. Then go and join the others and find that damn vault."

So she had been right. There was something else the clone was looking for, but what else could possibly be at the Archives that would be of interest to the clone? Though she doubted the clone would just blurt it out to her, even if she asked nicely.

"Not afraid I'll escape?" Shepard asked, trying to keep her head from hanging. She would not look beaten, even if the clone thought she was. Even if in the deep recesses of her mind, Shepard's subconscious was beginning to panic at the seemingly hopeless nature of the situation.

"It's an iridium vault," the clone answered. "Impossible to escape from the inside. You'll suffocate within an hour. Maybe two if you're lucky." The clone was the picture of victory, having the look of a woman who knew her victory had been assured.

"You weren't the only Shepard that Cerberus brought back to life, Jane, but at least one of us will finally do something with it." She stepped closer to Shepard again, whispering with cold malice, "I'm going to take everything you have and everything you are."

* * *

_Brooks was waiting for her by the entrance to the Archives, having replaced her bloodied Alliance jacket with a brand new one. Remarkable how authentic fake blood could look these days._

_Brooks saw her cut lip and unkempt hair and didn't hesitate to lecture her about it. She couldn't show up to the sushi place looking like she had gotten in a street fight. They were trying to avoid suspicion, not cause it. She told Brooks with an irritated growl she'd take care of it while she changed into her street clothes. Shepard hadn't done that much damage. Not like what she had done to Shepard, she thought with great satisfaction. _

_As they walked to the sky-car, Brooks also asked her about the vault. They still hadn't found it, those incompetent fools. What did she expect from hiring a bunch of discharged Alliance marines? If she had had the time, she would have searched for it herself. Thinking back on it, she should have allowed for more time, but if she had, she would have run the risk of not catching Shepard alone. She couldn't have allowed that._

_With communications cut from the outside world, she'd have to find a way back to the Archives to change Shepard's biometric logs to match her own. Brooks didn't look as put out as she was, pointing out that would make things convenient to lure Shepard's squad there. The archivists still trapped would stay in their quarantine zones until the alert was lifted. Their forces would be patrolling the halls and a fake message had been put out about the Archives being closed. _

_When Brooks found out about taking Shepard to one of the vaults instead of executing her on the spot, she grumbled a bit about her taking such a risk. They knew what Shepard was capable of. They were already risking too much. She told Brooks to mind her own damn business. Couldn't she see? She wanted Shepard to suffer in her final hours, plagued by the thought of her friends' deaths on her head. _

_That was Shepard's weakness, she knew now, the thing that caused her to uncharacteristically attack her like that. She cared for them. All of them, especially the turian. _

_He will be the one closest to Shepard, she thought to herself with great scorn. She'd have to watch out for him. _

_She had heard the rumors about Shepard and the turian, Garrus Vakarian, but only until she heard that call between the two of them, heard the obvious affection in their tones did she realize how true the rumors were. She did not think it possible for Shepard to sully her name any more than she already had, but she had found the way to go the extra mile. _

_They hopped into the sky-car, Brooks behind the wheel. Merging into traffic, Brooks went over the plan again, reminding her of what they knew about Shepard's squad, how she interacted with them. Amazing what obtaining secret footage could uncover, mostly from C-Sec cameras and intel from a few of their mercs tracking a bit of Shepard's movements and conversations on the Citadel. Not to mention what Brooks had gathered from aboard the Normandy a year ago before Shepard cut ties with Cerberus._

_She eventually tuned Brooks out, around the part about the AI. She hadn't forgotten. She knew all too well what she had to do. _

_Play the part of the paragon of the galaxy for the next few hours until the time was right, until she found what she was searching for..._

* * *

A/N: So it begins…stay tuned for the next chapter, the first one from Garrus's POV. Also, for anyone reading _Taking Back Omega_, I'll hopefully have the next chapter posted in a few days.


	4. -4-

A/N: A big thank you to bluumberry and a guest reviewer for your reviews last chapter, and to those who have favorited or followed this story!

* * *

-4-

"Finally heading out for a night on the town, Garrus?"

Traynor's chipper voice and smooth as butter accent Shepard once told him was something called a British accent (or more specifically, an accent that made just about anything sound intelligent even if it wasn't) had him spinning back around with some reluctance. Not that he didn't like Traynor, but he was already later getting out of there than he would have liked. All because that damn technician had to point out that mistake in the algorithms. Course the tech would have fixed it himself if Garrus had just kept his mouth shut…no, he was blameless. His pride at stake. No one would say Garrus Vakarian was sloppy with calibrating the Normandy's guns. That was his thing.

"Just had some last minute tune-up to finish," Garrus replied, repositioning his packed-to-the-brim bag so it rested more comfortable over his shoulder.

Traynor's face shifted, both her lips and her left eyebrow twitching furiously, her eyebrow desiring to cock itself above her eye. She had gotten over most of her shyness towards the other members of the crew, but there was still an occasional hesitancy, like she was afraid of overstepping her boundaries.

"And that had nothing to do with the tech I saw storming through here about an hour ago?"

"No idea what you're talking about. At all."

Traynor shot him a skeptical look, still fighting the amused grin threatening to burst forth on her face. "Word also has it you're planning to take the Commander out dancing," she said instead, her attention flying back to the flashing console at her workstation.

That definitely got Garrus's attention. "And did that word come from a certain wise-ass marine?" Just because he owed Vega for taking time away from his busy schedule of lifting weights and doing pushups to teach Garrus how to tango didn't mean he wouldn't kill him next time Garrus saw him.

"Actually it was EDI."

Garrus fought back a low, embarrassed groan, ending up strangled in his throat. "That's kind of the opposite of what I meant when I told Vega I didn't want word of this getting out, EDI."

"It was my understanding that you only did not wish for Shepard to find out," EDI explained as if that excused her blathering about this apparently not-so-secret plan. "And Shepard has shown no signs of expressing any knowledge of your attempts to, as Jeff said, "woo" her."

"Wait. Joker knows about this too?" He could already picture Joker playing back the footage of Vega leading him through the motions of a tango alongside the music in the shuttle bay when everyone had retired for the night, making comments about how he danced like he still had that stick up his ass. Not what he really wanted to be thinking about when actually on the dance floor with Jane.

"Yes. I was up in the cockpit when talking with Specialist Traynor. Since Joker rarely leaves the pilot's seat, it would only be natural. Though I believe he was also talking to Liara at the time."

Did everyone on the ship (except Jane) know about this? Apparently privacy as a concept didn't exist anymore on the Normandy. Actually, it would have, but EDI was hell-bent on killing it.

Traynor flashed him a more reassuring smile. "For what it's worth, Garrus, I happen to think it's very sweet and romantic. She'll be swept off her feet for sure."

Kind of what he was going for. He was well aware of Jane's…colorful reputation as a dancer. Mostly a lot of shifting between feet and up and down motions with flaying arms. For a woman with such a fine rhythm on the battlefield (and Garrus had spent many a time taking in that view, just watching her in action for one brief moment before someone shot at him again), she was entirely hopeless when it was without guns and enemies to shoot.

If this went well, it would be a first step. He had to try. It was his civic duty, a public service to the galaxy to never be treated to Shepard's cringeworthy (yet hilarious) dance moves.

"Speaking of which, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, Specialist Traynor. When you believed me to be a simple VI, you made comments about my voice."

Wait, what now?

Traynor froze, looking like she wanted to slink under her workstation and become invisible. "Oh, no."

Garrus shifted from left to right, not sure what else to do. How was he supposed to respond to that? His brain was trying to think of something clever, but it was still too busy trying to process what he had just heard. "Is the part of the conversation where I should leave the ship now?"

"No! No, I meant…weren't you going to tell me something about the Normandy's guns and that engineer?"

Garrus cocked his head. "Uh, no."

"Could you? Or about Shepard? Just…anything?" Traynor pleaded.

"I merely wish to understand why you found my voice sexually attractive."

Traynor kept on glancing around at the different doors, looking anxious an Alliance tech would come barging in and hear a lot more than they wanted to. Garrus was currently among them. Why wouldn't his feet move and get him the hell out of there?

"Oh, that was awhile ago. Can't even remember what I said exactly…" Traynor trailed off nervously, her face growing redder by the second.

"She does," Garrus replied, not being able to contain himself now that he had finally come up with something, even if it wasn't the wittiest one-liner in the world.

Traynor gave a glare at Garrus that was only half-hearted, still trying to fight the embarrassment, her hesitancy from earlier gone. "Garrus, please, you're not helping."

"On one occasion, you said that you wanted to quote, pin my voice against the wall and run your tongue along its collarbone."

Two things Garrus was learning from this increasingly awkward conversation (seriously, why hadn't he just left? Was his morbid curiosity getting the better of him?). One, only EDI could describe something meant to be extremely sensual and make it sound so clinical and boring (except for him, but that was only the one time). And two, he was seeing a side of Traynor he had never known existed and learning more information about her than he would ever want to know.

"Well, there's a context there that…you were talking about quantum entanglement and…I didn't know you were an AI." Traynor's ears perked up at the sound of boisterous laughter coming from the doors leading to the war room. "Anyway, I was just…joking, you know, stress of the retrofits and all…" The speed of her words had increased dramatically, signaling her wish to end the conversation before they had a full audience.

"Really? My diagnostic readings suggested you were genuinely aroused," EDI blurted out without any decorum.

Traynor buried her face in her hands to hide the visible blush that had spread from her cheeks to her ears, even on her darker skin." Oh good lord."

Now was definitely his cue to exit, especially when he saw that tech from earlier come from through the door. Probably best to keep as wide a berth from him as possible.

"Well, have fun with all that, Traynor. See you in a few days."

Traynor was still too mortified to let out anything more than a squeak of a goodbye.

* * *

Before Garrus headed to the Silversun Strip where Anderson's (now technically Jane's) apartment was, he needed to stop by a weapons store, Sallot's Emporium, down in the lower Wards. Easier to do it while he was already out, even if he was carrying his Viper and Mattock in his bag. Luckily his shoulder pad was still taking the brunt of the weight.

He could have carried them on his armor, but in light of the attacks on the Citadel, unconcealed weapons made people jumpy. The last thing he wanted was to get stopped by some rookie C-Sec officer who didn't know he used to work for C-Sec. He didn't have time for the resulting argument, mountains of paperwork and possible detainment time it might lead to.

Back in his C-Sec days, he had ordered new mods and models for his sniper rifle from this shop in particular. Actually, it was the unofficial place for all of C-Sec's weaponry shopping needs. He still wasn't entirely sure where the guy got his merchandise from (if it was black market goods, either he had done a good job disguising that fact or convincing C-Sec to look the other way), but it was usually excellent quality at reasonable prices. The owner also did thorough background checks on everyone who was a first-time buyer at his store, to eliminate the possibility of his weapons falling into the wrong hands.

Said owner, Sallot, an Elcor who had been living on the Citadel back to the days when his dad worked there, recognized him immediately and began pulling up the orders. A new precision scope for his assault rifle and a new upgrade for Jane's pistol, something called a cranial trauma system, just recently on the market. Supposed to increase heat-shot lethality by 70%.

He would have gotten her something for her sniper rifle, but lately, she had taken to using her sniper rifle at closer range rather than just pulling out her pistol. He wasn't one to criticize technique if it got results (especially from one sniper rifle enthusiast to another), but he had learned the hard way using sniper rifles at close range eventually bites you in the ass. This way she could get the same results from a pistol shot as she did her sniper.

"Eagerly," Sallot said as he returned with the mods. "These are some of the best on the market. Sincerely. I hope these will help you in your efforts to fight the Reapers."

"Much appreciated, Sallot," Garrus said after he finished paying, grabbing the mods and placing them in his bag.

Sallot expressed his thanks again (a sincere one, of course) before being called upon to assist another customer at the other end of the store.

Garrus made sure the mods wouldn't end up rolling underneath his guns and get crushed before turning to exit the stop, almost colliding head-on into a human male who had just entered the store. He was about to issue an apology and be on his way, but the words caught in his throat when he saw who he had bumped into.

Before he could say anything, the irritation in the man's eyes was replaced by recognition. "Hell, Vakarian, that you?"

"Ridgefield," Garrus greeted, extending his hand. "Good to see you again."

He remembered searching for Ridgefield alongside Lamont when they passed through their offices during the Cerberus coup and hadn't seen any sign of them, dead or alive. Good to see Ridgefield was still in one piece and hadn't aged too much in the two years since he'd seen him.

He had always liked Ridgefield, who joined C-Sec a year after he did, rising up the ranks just as quickly as Garrus did. They had spent many evenings after their shifts at Flux, complaining about red tape on one case or another. And watching Ridgefield lose time and time again at quasar, which had never failed to amuse.

Ridgefield firmly shook Garrus's outstretched hand. "Been awhile, Vakarian. Who'd you piss off this time?" He gestured to the side of Garrus's face with the scars.

"Just some merc gangs on Omega. Nothing I couldn't handle." A white lie if there ever was one. If Jane hadn't shown up when she had, his rotting corpse would probably be still strung up somewhere on Omega.

Ridgefield crossed his arms. "So what brings you out here? Last I heard you were still with Commander Shepard."

In more ways than one, but Ridgefield didn't need to know that. "Yeah, still am. Just taking some much needed shore leave." Garrus took note of his casual uniform. "Not on duty?"

"Was supposed to be three hours ago," he replied, sounding disgruntled now. "I was assigned to do a quick patrol around the Archives, make sure all the defenses are up to date and "according to C-Sec protocols,"" he said with air-quotes for added effect. "Half-way there when I was called back to C-Sec. Some problem with a volus I recently charged with smuggling illegal weapons tech. Spent two hours arguing with higher-ups why I ordered a search and seizure without a warrant. I felt like I was the one on fucking interrogation," he said, ending with a frustrated growl.

That sounded familiar. "So you decided to come here instead?"

"Something's wrong with my Carnifex and figured I'd get it checked," he gestured to the pistol at his hip. "Probably needs a new barrel. Not like I've really needed it much." The dissatisfaction on his face deepened. "Biggest war galaxy's ever seen and here I am either behind a desk or doing patrols on the Presidium."

Surprising coming from Ridgefield. He had always pushed for postings in the Wards. He had felt more useful tracking criminals in the Citadel's underbelly, reminded him of the slums he had grown up on on Earth. Not to mention he was one of the best hackers and techs this side of the galaxy, spending a lot of free time tinkering, especially with manipulating comm signals. Shame he hadn't come with Garrus when he went to Omega. Course if he had, he probably would have been dead by now.

"The Archives post is the first one in the Wards in awhile," he continued. "Claire's been getting more uneasy about me being on patrol. Requesting to be reassigned was the only way she'll let me keep doing my work."

From what he remembered of Ritchfield's then fiancée, she had always been a bit jumpy, but Garrus could understand his wife's reasons, desire to keep her husband safe. The thought had crossed Garrus's mind numerous times to lock Jane in her cabin close call after close call, but they were both soldiers. They would do what needed to be done, despite the risks, despite him feeling like he had aged twenty years after a mission.

Ridgefield suddenly pressed his two fingers against his ear, his scowl growing with each passing second. "Understood, _sir_." He looked back up at Garrus, running a hand through his thinning blond hair, furiously passing over the growing bald spot in the center. "Now the Executor wants to get involved with this. Christ, I caught the guy red-handed with the schematics. What more do they want?"

How many times had Garrus asked that question? One of the many reasons he had left C-Sec. Fortunately, Jane had shown him how to help people using the direct approach.

"Better get this gun checked out before Marcellenus sends someone to drag me back to C-Sec. See if they can keep me there for three hours this time. But it was good to see you again, Vakarian." Ridgefield offered his hand again, which Garrus willingly took.

"You too, Ridgefield," Garrus replied. An idea suddenly struck him. "I'll be on the Citadel for a few days. When you get off your shift or they don't bury you in paperwork, we should meet up at Flux or Purgatory, have a drink, catch up for old times sake."

Just as Garrus predicted, Ridgefield showed no signs of reluctance at the idea. "Will need it after this latest shitstorm. Always did like the way you think, Vakarian."

* * *

From Sallot's, it was only a ten minute sky-car ride to the Silversun Strip and the apartment that was their home away from home for the next couple of days.

Jane hadn't been kidding when she said the apartment was huge. Though he had hoped to catch her before she left to meet up with Joker, it was not surprising she was already gone. Probably wanted to spend time wandering around, checking out this part of the wards (not that he was all that familiar with it himself, having only been to the sushi place and the casino a few times), rather than just sitting around waiting for the time to pass. She never took inactivity well.

He searched the bedrooms until he found where Jane had set her things down, in an alcove with a weapons bench and armor holder. Definitely convenient.

He wasted no time in unzipping his bag and pulling his Mattock to install the new scope. Even though they wouldn't need their guns for the next few days, best to get this out of the way. Then he could focus on getting all spruced up for his night out with Jane.

He hadn't even been that serious, when he made some comment about impressing Jane (or rather, making her swoon) to Vega while in the lounge a few weeks ago. Then before he knew it, Vega was suggesting he take her tango dancing, assuring Garrus all the girls fell for it. If he learned these moves, he remembered Vega saying as he dealt a new card to Garrus, he'd have her eating out of the palm of his hand.

As he unclipped his old scope and prepared to secure his new one on, he went over the plan again in his head. He'd tell Jane to meet him over at the casino, on the upper floor where the dance floor and the bar were. Then he'd ping Vega to let him know they were coming. Garrus would distract her while Vega arrived and set up the music. Once Garrus heard it start, that would be his cue. And if he was lucky, Jane would go along with it and follow his lead. Hell, he had practiced the moves enough times. So long as he was guiding her through it, it shouldn't be a disaster.

Holding his rifle up to the light to inspect his work, he set it aside with satisfaction and grabbed Jane's pistol. Usually he would always ask before handling someone else's equipment (just common courtesy, afterall), but he wanted to surprise her, do this small thing for her. Spirits knew she deserved it after everything she had done. Not just for him, but for the rest of their friends, for the whole galaxy.

He set to securing the pistol down onto the workbench, positioning it so he could install the mod more easily. Truly hard to believe it would soon be over, one way or another. Only a few days of shore leave separated them from the beginning of the takeback for Earth, heading to Cerberus headquarters to confront the Illusive Man. _That_ had definitely been a long time coming.

He had been trying hard not to think about it, what the ending of this might mean. If he thought about it, he knew what it might lead to, thinking that he or even worse Jane…

He stopped that line of thought with a jerk of his head, forcing him to pause in his work on the pistol. He had to get a grip. They had faced Sovereign and that Reaper-human larva, had brought everyone back from the Collector base. Scraped, bruised, things broken in some places, but alive. Both those times.

But he knew this time was different. This was Sovereign times a thousand. The Reapers would throw everything they had at them to stop them from launching the Crucible. And Harbinger…he would show up again. He had shown too much of an interest in Jane not to. Just the thought of her, facing Harbinger (maybe even alone if he couldn't be by her side), her body blasted apart by its red-hot laser…

"Stop, Vakarian, it won't happen…" he scowled himself, pushing away those unpleasant thoughts and the resulting emotions that left him with an unsettled feeling throughout his body. He usually expected the worst, but he couldn't, _wouldn't, _this time.

Go back to focusing on installing the mod on Jane's pistol then change for their night out, he encouraged himself. That's all he needed to worry about for now.

It didn't take him much longer to finish working on the pistol. Like his rifle, he set it aside to give the mod time to properly sync with the rest of the pistol.

He stepped out of the alcove and decided to take a quick tour of the apartment. Liked the hot tub (a surprising feature), could definitely see them making use of that. The only time turians could handle being in water without fear of flailing around and drowning. Also a fan of the long bar tables and poker table downstairs. The place even had a nice fireplace, water feature and plants hidden behind a really, really nice glass wall fixture.

He spotted the stereo controls by the fireplace and decided some synthetic beats throughout the apartment would be a good start to their unwinding time. Once he settled on a song, he made his way back up the stairs to the main bedroom, rooting around in his bag for his dress clothes. After years of changing out of his armor, it didn't take long for him to strip everything off. Since he had the time, probably worth it to freshen up with a shower, take advantage of the space while he had the opportunity. The ones on the crew deck were not meant for large bodies (mainly turian bodies). Even the one in Jane's quarters wasn't as spacious or nice as the one here. Though why there was only one shower in this entire apartment for one bedroom he couldn't understand.

A fifteen minute shower and toweling down later, he went back to putting on his clothes. He had just finished buttoning up his tunic when he heard a ping coming from his omni-tool He hadn't even been watching the time, but he was pretty sure Jane and Joker should have just met up a little while ago. Could they possibly be finished that soon? Not likely with how crowded that sushi place got. Or was someone else trying to contact him?

He accepted the incoming vid-link, surprised to see Joker's image staring back at him.

"Missed talking to me already, Joker? Thought you'd still be at dinner. Quality went downhill that much?" Garrus asked, joking to hide the growing dread he was starting to feel. Nothing was wrong, he tried to pacify the emotional side of him. He was just overly paranoid. There was a reason Joker was calling that wasn't because something had happened to Jane.

"The drinks were good. Pretty much the only things we had before the mercs showed up."

There went that attempt at deluding himself, along with his plans for the evening. Couldn't Jane go five minutes before someone started shooting at her?

"You know, Joker, that should have been how you started the conversation," Garrus said, trying to keep his voice level. He wasn't going to lose his cool, even if his heart had started pounding heavily in his chest. Joker wasn't acting hysterical. A good sign, at least. Meaning things hadn't completely gone to hell.

"Was trying to break it to you gently, in case you didn't take it well." Joker suddenly winced. "Oww! Damn pancreas."

"That's still up for debate." Especially at the rate his heart was going. "So what exactly happened?"

"Short version: Some Alliance staff analyst named Brooks came up to us and told us someone's been hacking Shepard's accounts and comm channels. Then these mercs showed up looking for her. And can I just highlight the fact she used me as bait to spear some guy with an omni-blade? Not particularly thrilled about that."

"Joker..."

"Right. Sorry. Anyway, one of the mercs grabbed Brooks and Shepard went after her. That's pretty much it. Oh, and the glass of the fish tank exploded when some mercs fired at it and Shepard fell through the tank. Other than that...she's fine, by the way. EDI's been able to track her," he immediately amended when he saw Garrus's face. He had to have seen the fleeting panic cross his eyes before Garrus reined it back in.

It was still a moment before Garrus found his voice. "Anyone ever tell you you're terrible at delivering bad news, Joker? Or at story-telling?"

Joker shrugged, brushing the criticism off. "Still better me calling and saying we're in some serious shit and Shepard is alone and being hunted by random mercs."

"Actually, when you put it that way…"

"Told you."

Garrus quickly moved to the alcove where his weapons still were. "Have you been able to get ahold of her?"

"No, not on our usual channel. Wouldn't help her anyways, being bugged and all. Figured I'd better try contacting you and the rest of the crew. I can send you the coordinates for Shepard's last location EDI sent to me."

Garrus retrieved his Viper out of his bag. "Thanks, Joker."

"And Garrus." He turned back to Joker, who was studying him with an attentive eye, a seriousness set on his face Garrus rarely saw. "Shepard'll be fine," Joker replied, as if Garrus needed reassurance. He did, but he wouldn't admit it outloud.

"Course she will." He placed the Viper down on the table with more force than was necessary. "She'll have me to back her up."

He signed off with Joker, getting out of his civvies much quicker than getting them on. If he had given into his initial rise of panic, he would have bolted out of there without any armor, any weapons, intent on tearing the mercs apart just with his talons, but he wasn't that animalistic. Yet.

Hopefully his new scope had had enough time to calibrate (he really did use that word a lot) properly with his rifle, but he'd have to make do. He had to get to Jane before the mercs were able to corner her. The only thing that made him feel better was her tactical cloak. So long as her omni-tool was still working, she could get herself out of such a situation and he could breathe a lot easier.

He had once told Jane that nobody had better hurt her. He knew she could kick a merc's ass from one corner of the galaxy to the next, but if someone had so much as put a scratch on her, he thought as he fastened his weapons onto his back, they would find out what an ass-kicking from a turian and former vigilante known as Archangel felt like, just for good measure.

* * *

_She ducked behind a corner, waiting for her tactical cloak to re-charge and grasping a Suppressor she had retrieved from one of her mercs. Brooks had encouraged her to spare as many of their mercs live as possible, so they wouldn't have to replenish all their numbers. _

_She wouldn't guarantee anything. The second her mercs started firing at her, they would die (just like the two at the sushi place), even if they didn't know they weren't firing at the real Shepard. Only a handful of mercs knew the real plan, but even they weren't told until the very last minute. She had left absolutely nothing to chance, ensuring their silence through threats of death and promises of more credits. Even if some of them grew a conscience, those who knew were all in the Archives and external communications had been cut off._

_She winced when she kneeled down, clutching at her sore rib cage. She had known it would happen, positioned herself exactly that her merc would fire at the glass and cause her to fall through the tank, but it still didn't make it any easier on her body, only awake for half a year. _

_Her discomfort aside, everything was going according to plan. She had arrived at the sushi place with the pilot being none the wiser. Brooks had played her part of the nervous, socially awkward Alliance official well and she had pretended to be patient and cordial to Brooks, even playfully suggesting to the pilot she'd get him umbrellas with his drinks. _

_The pilot who went by Joker was clearly devoted to the Normandy, almost to the point of fixation. Once the truth was known, he would never agree to hand the ship over. He would have to be disposed of as well. A pity. He had the most experience handling the ship and its AI, but good pilots were not a rarity and it would not take much to assume control over the AI's systems._

_And she could certainly do without a pilot who constantly made poor attempts at humor, who thought himself clever and was anything but. Sarcasm among her crew would not be tolerated. They would follow her orders without question, without dissension, without derision. _

_She had let him go to contact the rest of Shepard's crew, but not before using him to keep his attention away from her. She cursed herself in that moment, when the pilot looked at her incredulously, protesting at being used as bait. Would Shepard have done that or was she more of a paragon than she had thought?_

_Next time she saw him, she'd write it off, think of a way Shepard would try to justify it. _

_She'd prove Shepard wrong. She'd fool them all until the final moment, when they saw the guns of her mercs pointed at their heads and realized their times were at an end._

_She checked on her tactical cloak's status, noting with satisfaction at the cloak being fully charged. She prepared to move out, when static crackled through her earpiece and a distinctly turian voice called out for __**Jane**__, failing to hide the concern in his voice as he asked if she was alright._

_The real deception was about to begin. _


	5. -5-

A/N: I'm back with an update, pushing through writer's block and an increasingly busy RL to finally post something! Thanks to Danie-Dono, two guest reviewers, and bluumberry for your reviews last chapter and to those who have favorited or followed this story, despite my inconsistent updates.

* * *

-5-

"How much further do we have to take her? My arms are getting tired." This had been the third time in ten minutes the merc to her left (or as Shepard had identified him, the one who smelled like he had been rolling around in a mix of tobacco, alcohol, and his own filth) had griped about their task.

"Shut up, Melrose. Shepard said to take her down as far as we can. If we don't and she somehow gets loose, our asses will be on the line," the other merc shot back. Thankfully he only smelled like tobacco smoke.

"But Shepard's right here."

"The other Shepard, dumb ass."

For her part, Shepard hadn't said a word, showed any visible facial expression to their inane conversation. When the two mercs dragged her away from the clone, she hadn't resisted this time, not even a faint struggle, giving off the semblance of defeat.

Little did everyone else know she was stalling for time, trying to think of a plan, waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. That was the best she could do at the moment.

Though she couldn't deny it. Every maze-like turn in this place as they descended into the bowels had Shepard's heart sinking, an invisible knife stabbing at the hope she held inside her that she could get out of this, determined to make it bleed before it finally expired.

But she refused to give up hope, however slim it was. How many situations she had been in similar to this, on her own with no one on her six? Mindoir, Akuze, Aratoht. An even further laundry list of seemingly impossible missions.

All she needed to do was get out of their hold before they tried to lock her into that iridium vault. Because slowly suffocating in a dark vault was not on the list of ways she wanted to go out.

This was nothing she couldn't handle…right?

They encountered more mercs on the way, but they didn't stop to chat with them. All of them seemed intent on searching for something, as if their very existences depended on them finding it. What could possibly be so difficult to track down that a simple look-up on one of the terminals wouldn't lead them in the right direction? Was it something so top-secret that it didn't show up on average search results?

Her face was really starting to pound now. It probably was swollen as hell, cheeks all puffed up like one of those blow fish. So was her hand. She didn't think she'd be able to grip anything properly, leaving her with only one functional hand to punch, grab, and shoot with. Her head felt like raging Klixen were stampeding through it and she could already feel the planet-sized bruise growing on her knee-cap.

"Alright, this looks good. Set her down," the merc ordered with the same infliction as dumping a box of unwanted junk onto the floor.

The god-awful smelling merc who had forced her hands behind her back pushed her down to the floor none too gently, forcing her to land on her knees. She grimaced when her bruised knee made contact, but didn't let out a sound. She wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of hearing her in pain.

"After bitching at me for complaining?" the merc demanded sullenly, still keeping his pistol aimed at Shepard's head, in case she got any sudden ideas about bolting for it.

"We should be down far enough. We can't waste anymore time. She expects us to have found the biometric access log by the time she comes back," the other merc defended, walking over to a nearby console.

_Biometric access log? Why would my clone be interested in something like that?_

The merc named Melrose towered over her, a steely and unsettling glint in his eyes. "Sure we don't have time to have some fun with her, Hawkes?"

Shepard's face was blank, eyes pinpointed on him in defiance. She was in no way interested in the type of "fun" he was alluding to and he'd learn that very quickly.

Thankfully the other merc had more self-control and seemed completely uninterested at the thought. "The other Shepard'll have your head if she finds out you were fucking around."

Melrose shrugged. "She knew what she was getting when she recruited us."

"Not all of us are convicted rapists," Hawkes retorted before focusing his attention back on the terminal in front of him.

"And not all of us got booted from the Alliance for being hopped up on red sand job after job."

Hawkes was former Alliance? Maybe Melrose was too. And some of the other mercs.

Shepard had little time to ponder on this information before she heard the sound of grinding gears and a capsule spring forth from its containment, ready to share what it had been guarding. Or ready to trap a reluctant human inside, depending on how one looked at it.

"Your head and balls on the line, not mine." So much for his self-control. "Five minutes, then we gotta help find Shepard's log."

_Mine?_

Melrose reached out and roughly grabbed Shepard's chin, forcing her head up, his hand just as slimy as that batarian, so long ago, who had touched her, sneered (just as Melrose was doing) at how valuable a slave she'd be on the market.

"I'll only need four."

With a lightning speed and a fury possessing her she didn't know herself to be capable of, Shepard jerked her head and bit down hard on his wrist to make him let go, teeth digging down as hard and as far down as she could manage. In a furious shout of pain, the merc let go, clutching at his wrist, his pistol clanking to the floor. Shepard quickly dived for it with her good hand, instinctively reaching for her omni-tool to activate her cloak before remembering she didn't have it anymore. Or her omni-blade.

No helper aids this time. She was completely on her own, completely visible, with no real cover and a pistol that only had four rounds in it.

She fired one shot at Hawkes in the shoulder, just to stun him, but showing no such restraint for Melrose, aiming right at his head. The shot missed by an inch.

"Shepard's escaping! Need back-up at our location ASAP!"

That was her cue to run like hell.

Like she had suddenly sprouted wings, she flew through the vault quickly enough Hawkes couldn't shut the vault over her, back the way they had come.

She heard the pounding footsteps behind her, the shouts at her beckoning her to come back, that she couldn't possibly run forever. The shouts only seemed to grow louder with every step she took, the further back she went, meaning more mercs had heard the broadcast and were coming for her. Shots were fired at her, but all of them seemed to miss her, but just barely for some.

She had become accustomed enough to the click of a rifle as its owner prepared to shoot it, the release of a smoking thermal clip, the proximity of a shot as it sailed through the air and hit a target. Even though she couldn't see the shots, her body seemed to anticipate their approach and glide like on water through the room.

But she was still only human, prone to error like everyone. Her heightened senses were an advantage, but not a guarantee.

She only fired her pistol once at someone who had popped up from cover right by her, preparing to fire. Leaving her with only one more bullet. Without a ready source of thermal clips she could easily pick up (they were usually littered across every single battlefield plan, but of course when she actually needed one, they were nowhere to be found), her bullet was like a priceless treasure, to be guarded until the opportune moment.

She ran through any doors with green locks, losing track of where she was going, knowing all that mattered was getting away. Later, when things had calmed down, then she could kick herself about that.

Her years in the military had kept her in excellent physical shape. The job demanded nothing less. But even now, she was starting to feel a burning sensation in her lungs, her muscles weakening from lack of oxygen. Why the hell was her adrenaline draining away from her like this?

_Damn it!_

She skidded to a halt when she spotted the four mercs coming down the platform. She glanced behind her, Melrose and Hawkes on her heel along with another four others. She looked down at the platform below her.

Before she had time to think through the consequences of such a leap, she took off at a sprint, jumping over the railing, those few seconds of weightlessness as she flew through the air before gravity wanted to drag her back down the longest of her life.

She blocked out how reminiscent it was of the Collector Base.

Miranda and Garrus wouldn't be there to catch her this time.

She didn't look down at how far the fall would be if she didn't make it. She didn't need to know.

Her left hand brushed the edge of the railing, her hand screaming at her just for that small cotnacat. Her right hand had more reach and grabbed hold as her body slammed into the railing, her knee striking it right in its sore spot.

She flipped herself over the railing, barely missing a bullet as it nicked the railing right by her elbow, tumbling onto the platform. She rushed through the door straight ahead of her, continuing to run as fast as her legs would carry her.

She continued this vigorous pace until she entered another area with a bunch of desks and open vaults like the one with the info on that raid on the Cerberus facility. With no omni-tool, she couldn't lock the door behind her (she had never fully realized how much she had relied on the damn thing until now), so she went further inside the open room, taking cover behind one of the desks in between two of the vaults at the far end of the wall.

"What the hell did you get yourself into this time, Jane?" she murmured to herself, laying her aching head against the desk, repositioning it so the edge of the desk wasn't stabbing her in the back of the head. First she'd focus on getting her breathing under control again, examine her knee and hand and make sure they were still alright, then…

She had no idea what then.

Maybe she should have just stayed and fought. She could have probably taken them all with a pistol once she had found suitable cover. Was it because she had no sure-fire way to reload her weapon (not like that had ever stopped her before)? Recognized that maybe her hand-to-hand wasn't as up to par it should have been?

Or was it because she had allowed herself to get too reckless attacking her clone and didn't want to risk anything happening again?

Any way she sliced it, she was in it deep.

Least the fates had granted her this little respite. One good thing about running from the battlefield. She had seemingly lost them for the moment, but they would come looking for her and she'd have to be ready when they found her.

She pulled the strands sticky with flecks of dried blood away from her face, tucking them behind her ears again, careful not to press too hard down on her cheeks. They were really starting to throb now.

_Focus, Jane, you need to figure out what's going on. _

She had to get out of there before the mercs closed in on her again. Or worse, the clone lured her squadmates to their demise. She had to expose the fact there were two Shepards and she was the real one.

But what Hawkes had foolishly let slip in front of her. What the clone was looking for. Shepard's biometric log. Whatever the clone planned on doing with it spelled trouble for Shepard, of that she was sure.

"Why would it be of use to her? It wouldn't be the same…unless she changed it!" Shepard thought outloud, reaching that sudden epiphany.

If the clone somehow succeeded in changing the log, it would make it more difficult for Shepard to prove her true identity.

She had to find that log, make it so only she could access it at will.

How exactly she was going to do this, she was still working out. Maybe if she accessed a VI console, she could get a map, instructions on where to go. There were enough terminals to be had at the desks, if they were still operational. Or maybe if she was really lucky, she could find out where the other archivists were holed up and they could point her in the right direction.

She might even be able to figure out how to get the external comms operational again, if she knew where they were located and what was blocking the signals.

Completely focused on determining a solid, 90% fool-proof plan, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard an overly pleasant synthetic voice announce from nowhere, "Year 2157 CE, First Contact War, turian interrogation, vault T-91."

Wonder why it had suddenly activated. She hadn't hit any buttons, unless there was an invisible one on the floor.

Shepard turned to her right at the image that had suddenly appeared of two turians (one standing guard above the prisoner with his assault rifle close at hand) and a human sitting rigidly on one of those rock-hard bunk beds. Unlike the other vault regarding the Cerberus raid, the audio was not as distorted.

"Sir, we captured this human in the occupation of Shanxi."

"A human...you're the first I've met." The turian in charge sounded less than impressed with this first encounter.

"And you're the first bird I've met," the human replied levelly, seemingly just as unfazed, seeing them as nothing more than birds who had gotten lucky. She knew she should have tuned it out, re-focused on figuring out what to do about her current situation, especially when mercs could be at her doorstep at any moment, but she found herself transfixed at the record.

The young marine's comment reminded Shepard of when she had seen a turian up close for the first time on Mindoir. At eight years old, he had looked like a bird, a predator that could chew her face off if he wished. She remembered hiding behind her mother, who was just as terrified at the sight, but tried to make a brave show for her daughter.

If only her younger self could have seen her now, not only friends with a turian, but a mate of one to boot.

"He was armed with this weapon, sir." The guard showed his superior what looked to be a very basic heavy pistol.

"How primitive," the commanding officer sneered. "Your kind expects to win a war with this?"

The human remained completely emotionless. "A bullet is a bullet."

"You have so much to learn. And when we conquer your Earth, I look forward to teaching you."

Hard to imagine that was less than thirty years ago. Humanity's first steps into a much more expanded galaxy than they had previously believed and they just had to antagonize the most militaristic of the species.

Shepard was thankful relations between the two species had becoming much friendlier since that short time ago, though tension among some of those of the older generations would probably never fade. If the war had still been going on, Garrus and her would have been reenacting an adaption of that Shakespeare play her mother had read to her when she was fifteen, _Romeo and Juliet_. Not roles she would have wanted either of them to fill.

_Garrus…_

The clone's threat was coming back to her and no matter how hard she tried to dismiss it, she couldn't make it go away. Her friends and her mate had become so much to her. To lose any of them now, after they had lost so many because of this damn war. She didn't want to see anyone else to join Kaidan, Mordin, Thane or Legion on that wall.

She knew her friends knew her well. They would realize something was amiss, but would they realize it in time? And would they jump to the conclusion that the clone was an imposter? She didn't know if she would have if she was in their situation.

_If I can't get to you all, please realize it in time…_

_She won't be able to keep up the charade for long, guys. She's not me, no matter how much she may want to be… _

_Garrus, please still be on the Normandy…please don't get taken in…_

_Please realize it in time…_

* * *

A/N: Tune in next chapter for _the_ moment, when Garrus finally meets up with the clone for the first time.


	6. -6-

A/N: Thanks to a guest reviewer, Shockeye7665, and Danie-Dono for your reviews last chapter as well as those who have favorited or followed this story. Your support means a lot!

* * *

-6-

The silence on the other end of the comm almost seemed deafening. Garrus had been trying to get in contact with Jane, just to hear something, _anything_, a sign she was still doing alright. He knew he was worrying too much, acting like she was nothing more than a civilian who had never been within the presence of a gun in her life, but when he spotted the healthy number of mercs he had on the way to Jane's last location, he had every right to be concerned.

_If they had gotten to her, they wouldn't still be roaming around,_ he consoled himself, ducking (as well as any turian could) behind a wall until a group of them passed him by. Last thing he wanted to do was raise an alarm among all the mercs, then he would be reliving the siege on his base on Omega all over again and Jane would have to be the one to come in guns blazing and save his ass.

What Garrus still couldn't figure out was who these mercs were. From all his years either with the turian military or C-Sec, Omega and teaming up with Jane to traverse all corners of the galaxy, it had ensured his exposure to lots and lots of mercs. He couldn't remember ever seeing these mercs before and didn't recall this camouflage-type armor. Was this a gang that had recently been formed or had they been keeping a low profile until an opportunity presented itself?

Once sure there were no other mercs in the vicinity, he continued his trek. He tried calling again for Jane, but again all he received in response was static. Obviously their usual channel was a no-go.

He switched to the next available frequency, encouraged by the lack of interference on the channel.

"Jane, can you hear me?" he asked as he slid down a ladder to the floor below him, dumping him into an area with a bunch of grocer stands. "You ok?" He tried not to reveal how panicked he was growing, but he couldn't help a little of it seeping into his inflection.

After a moment, he finally heard it. Her voice, breathless and a little pained, but _alright_. "I'm fine. Might need a little back-up."

He let out a sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding, feeling most of the tension lift right off of him. She really was going to age him twenty to thirty years by the time this was all finished.

"Well, lucky for you, Archangel is your boyfriend," Garrus replied, filling the gap the tension had left behind with humor (his specialty). "Joker filled me in, I'm on foot. Be there as fast as I can."

He had just been about to sign off and continue on his way, when he heard a shrill voice on the other end, definitely not belonging to Jane. "Excuse me, who is this? You're on an unsecure channel and you're putting Commander Shepard in danger."

That stopped him in his tracks, almost causing him to crash right into the fruit stand and spill all the produce on the floor. "I'm doing what? Who is this?" he demanded, an emerging growl in his sub-harmonics.

"Hang on, Joker mentioned Staff Analyst Brooks, yes?" Jane asked him, once again stepping in to play the role of mediator. "Everybody play nice."

"I think I spot a turian on the far side!"

So much for not raising an alarm.

Signing off the comm channel for the moment while he dealt with this, he darted a few feet and up a nearby ladder, bolting across an awning for many more yards, and made the small jump down below. He barely had time to take in the many shops lined neatly in a row to his left before a cluster of those mercs were on him, forcing him to take cover from a nearby pillar. How the hell had they beaten him to the punch?

Not feeling like reaching for his assault or sniper rifles, he unhooked Jane's pistol he had brought with him, setting the configuration to shoot armor-piercing rounds. The mod he had installed had synchronized well with the rest of the gun. It definitely packed more of a punch than he remembered, watching as his target's feet were swept under him from the force of the bullets hitting his head and fell to the floor in a heap.

He had always dismissed Jane's choice of pistol, much to her annoyance. There were much more powerful ones on the market than the Predator, he had argued. Predators were as basic as it got. Not when compared the newer models to other pistols, she had argued just as passionately.

But even he couldn't argue with the results now. If it had the right mods, he'd have to rethink his position on the most superior model of heavy pistol. However, she'd never let him live it down that she was right, so maybe keeping that thought to himself was a better idea.

He heard the merc pop up next to him when it was too late, unable to dodge the baton strike on him fast enough. Garrus tried rolling away from him, but he was too dazed to get himself up from the floor. What had happened to his lightening reflexes and his superior hearing all of a sudden?

He could hear the approaching footfall of more mercs, every sound matching that of his now pounding heartbeat. He wasn't going to let this be the end. Not now, not right before the final assault, when Jane would need him the most.

The merc who had hit him raised his arm, preparing for another strike, but was distracted by the sound of more gunfire and a cry from a familiar sounding voice, "You're mine, you bastard!"

Only one other person spoke with such a low, gruff voice, with that similar sounding accent as Traynor's.

Garrus took advantage of the merc's inattentiveness and fired two clean rounds right in between the round, glowing eyes of his helmet. Garrus pulled himself up from the floor, watching as Zaeed Massani, feared bounty hunter and former Normandy squadmate, beat the living shit out of a merc with the back end of his rifle.

So focused on the task at hand, Zaeed didn't see a sniper setting up his sights on him. Pulling out his sniper rifle, Garrus unleashed a concussive shot to knock the merc off balance and allow him to make a few precision shots with his Viper.

"Nice one, Vakarian!" Zaeed called out to him once finished with his merc, as naturally as if Zaeed had never left the Normandy and it hadn't been more than half a year since they last saw each other. An answer on what Zaeed was doing there would have to wait until they had less mercs and bullets coming their way.

Zaeed directed his assault rifle at the oncoming horde. "Bring it on, you sons of bitches!" He threw in an inferno grenade for good measure, watching one burst into flames on the spot.

Good to see Zaeed hadn't mellowed with age.

"So what do I owe the pleasure, Zaeed?" Garrus asked, approaching Zaeed once the last wave of the mercs had been dealt with.

Zaeed shrugged. "Saw you pinned down, thought I'd lend a hand," he said, as if he had had nothing better to do.

Garrus couldn't believe it was so simple. "Just passing by?"

"I like wandering around the Citadel underbelly, see what trouble me and my rifle can get into." When he sensed Garrus wouldn't let him off the hook, he finally relented. "You're a stubborn one, Vakarian, I'll give you that. Fine. I heard reports of gunshots and thought it might be Cerberus. Thought I'd do some cleaning up. Turns out I was wrong, but how they were shooting at you, I'm guessing they weren't friendly."

"I thought you were still under contract with them."

"Was. Until they fucked up negotiations. The Illusive Man thought shoving a bunch of god-damn credits under my nose would make me more amenable to their cause."

That raised Garrus's curiosity. "So what was the job?"

Zaeed popped out a heat-sink, forcefully replacing it with a new one. "It's not important."

Garrus was interrupted from probing more deeply at the sound of gunshots across the way. He frantically tuned back into the comm, knowing what the sound meant.

"Jane, what's happening? I heard that from here!" Zaeed shot him a raised eyebrow, but stayed silent for the moment.

"It's all under control!" He hoped that wasn't an overstatement for his sake.

A new voice entered onto their channel, but this time, it was a familiar and welcome one.

"There are alarms going off across the Wards, what's happening?" Liara. Joker must have gotten in contact with the others.

"Thought I'd make things more interesting," came Jane's winded reply. As wound up and worried about her as he was, he couldn't help but flicker his mandibles at that. He had found banter during a firefight usually made everything better.

"We need to sit down and have a chat about your methods," Liara replied, sounding like she was questioning Jane's sanity.

"That would probably take longer than we'd have time for," a filtered voice belonging to their quarian friend stated, adding her few credits to the conversation before the comm went silent again.

Zaeed turned his differently colored eyes on Garrus. He still couldn't get used to the sight of blue and green where there should have been just one or the other. "So your old ball and chain is in trouble, I take it?"

Garrus didn't know what a ball and chain had to do with anything, but they had bigger things to worry about. "If you mean Shepard, then yes."

"Course I do. Haven't you ever heard that expression before?" At Garrus's blank look, he continued, "If you're still with her in a hundred years, you'll understand the meaning."

He could only hope he'd have that chance a hundred years from now, even if it was a negative meaning. Which, with a ball and chain, probably was. But it would never apply to him, anyways.

A hundred years would never be enough time with her.

Garrus's omni-tool suddenly pinged at him, persistently binging until he finally opened it and saw the message awaiting him from Brooks. C-Sec was coming with a shuttle. All they had to do was get to Cision Motors, not too far from their current location.

"I have to get over to the skycar lot. You coming with, Zaeed?"

Zaeed gave that nonchalant shrug again. "Not as if I have a choice now, do I?"

Garrus set the navpoint up in his omni-tool, directing Zaeed to follow him. He gave Zaeed a brief summary of what had happened, also informing him of what comm channel to set his communicator to so he could listen into his conversations with Jane.

Zaeed let out a low whistle when Garrus had finished. "Christ, she can't go anywhere without someone trying to kill her." That was pretty much the consensus Garrus had come to.

"But she's damn good at getting under peoples' skin, so shouldn't be a surprise." Garrus assumed Zaeed included himself in that category, though Zaeed said it without any hint of bitterness. It was reassuring to know Jane's charm and forceful personality had won Zaeed over to her side in the end, despite saving those hostages at the cost of Zaeed getting his revenge on that leader of the Blue Suns.

"Jane, Brooks just sent me the nav point for the skycar lot. Meet you there," Garrus said into his communicator, moving at a brisk pace. He intended to be waiting for her when she arrived.

"Good to hear."

"What do we know about these mercs?" Maybe Jane had gained some insight he hadn't.

"They have guns and don't like me."

For some reason, he didn't find that sarcastic answer as humorous as the first one to Liara. "Not helping, Jane."

"Commander, it would be really great if you could stay off the comm." Brooks again. Where the hell was she if not with Jane?

Garrus didn't hear Jane's response, encountering more resistance in the form of five more mercs up ahead.

"How many of these guys are there?" Garrus asked more to himself as he ducked for cover, but Zaeed who had sought shelter beside him, still chose to answer.

"I've been in this line of work for over thirty years. Don't recognize them one damn bit!" he growled, releasing a concussive shot at a merc who thought getting closer was a smart idea.

If Zaeed, one of the most feared and respected bounty hunters/mercenaries in the business didn't recognize them, that made things all the more troubling.

"Commander, there's a C-Sec shuttle inbound if you can get to the skycar lot," Brooks informed Jane, coming online again.

"Understood."

"Ok, Brooks over. No, out. Brooks, out. Over and out. Brooks...damn it!" She cut off the transmission with an abrupt halt.

"Nervous little thing this Staff Analyst, isn't she?" He had to agree with Zaeed there. Something told Garrus she didn't see much front-line action. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Plenty of people had done great thing armed with nothing more than datapads, their desks the only battlefields they've engaged their foes at.

They made it to the skycar lot without any further interruptions, promptly encountering around set of mercs waiting by the door, as if expecting their arrival. Obviously they had heard about their travel plans.

Garrus and Zaeed used a nearby skycar as cover, bullets either nicking the car (or the cars unlucky enough to be in the bullets' paths) or burrowing deep within the metal, waiting until the mercs had to reload before springing out and attacking. Fortunately, the mercs were preoccupied by the arrival of an auburn-haired human, firing her heavy pistol at them. Garrus slid over the hood of the skycar (pretty fancy maneuvering, if he did say so himself), firing Jane's pistol at their turned backs. With Zaeed providing back-up with his rifle, they made easy work of the mercs.

Garrus took this moment to look over his mate, searching for any hint of pain or discomfort on her face. At least there were no serious injuries, as far as he could tell. Though she had those Cerberus implants, they were probably tested with Jane falling through a glass tank for an unknown number of feet. The only thing he noticed was how pale she looked than usual, but he'd take it if that was all that was wrong.

"Sounds like you've had a fun evening," Garrus remarked as she approached him, hiding his emotions behind humor, just as he always did. At least until they were alone.

"That's one way to put it," Jane replied in a strained tone, lowering the pistol in her hand to her side. She must have picked it up from one of the other mercs. Small, with an extended barrel, typical of sound suppressors, though he couldn't say he recognized the design. Much like everything else about this merc gang.

"You can't go ten seconds without pissing someone off, can you, Shepard?" Zaeed asked, revealing himself from behind the skycar.

Jane cocked her head, studying Zaeed intently, as if analyzing him for the first time.

"Zaeed," she finally greeted, offering her hand. "Good to see you."

Zaeed gave it a vigorous shake. "Likewise, Shepard. Couldn't stay away from your sunny personality."

Though Jane looked anything but sunny as she clutched at her rib cage upon releasing Zaeed's hand, finally prompting a grimace on her face.

He stopped himself from reaching out for her at the sight of her in pain. "Are you ok?"

"Fine," she answered curtly, pulling her hand away and straightening herself back up.

Garrus crossed his arms. "You sure about that?"

"I'm fine, Vakarian," she insisted. "Just need some pain reliever, that's all."

Garrus bit back a defeated sigh. He knew first-hand how stubborn she could be where personal injuries were concerned. She'd be the last one to admit an injury or an illness until she had pushed herself to the brink.

But at least he had learned enough about human physiology to know what signs to watch out for with internal injuries. She didn't seem like she was having trouble breathing, meaning no ribs punctured her lungs. Nor did she seem like she was in excruciating pain like she had cracked a rib, so he could take comfort in those two things. She was probably right. She was just sore as hell from that fall. Simple as that. Hopefully she had brought some painkillers with her from the Normandy.

"If you two lovebirds are done, the landing pad is just over there. But the gate's blocking our path." Zaeed interrupted, gesturing to the area behind them.

"Let's look for a control panel, then," Jane stated, brushing past Garrus, close enough their sides almost touched. At that angle, he noticed how those standard Alliance civvies accentuated those curves of hers, especially around her waist. He vaguely wondered how he had never noticed before.

"Nice outfit," he drawled appreciatively once Zaeed was out of earshot. He knew it wasn't the time or place, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The look she sent him echoed what he already knew. Not the time. She was probably still wired from the pain, being shot at by an endless siege of mercs, and from…

"So about that fish tank you fell through," he began, trying to keep the image of the glass floor opening up to consume her at bay so it wouldn't tie his stomach into knots. "Was this all part of your plan to kill more fish? The aquarium in your cabin wasn't enough?"

"Can we talk about it later?" she dismissed, not looking at him.

"A damn shame, by the way, about that place. Great food there," Garrus continued to quip, trying to lighten the mood for her sake.

She turned her head back towards him, her eyes flashing in irritation. "We'll talk about it later," she repeated in the form of a statement, a little more forcefully.

Yep, definitely still wired. Probably best to keep his mouth shut about that until they were safe in Jane's apartment and she had time to wind down.

Zaeed called them over towards the end of the room, past the very expensive, top of the line skycars with their fresh coats of paint and upgraded features from last year's models.

He spotted the control panel inside the locked room. As Garrus got closer, he noticed the volus inside who had his back turned from them.

Garrus turned to the others to tell them someone was in there and could probably unlock the gate for them, when he noticed Jane. His eyes widened in surprise as Jane raised her pistol, poised to shoot at the door. "Stand back."

She wasn't kidding. She was dead serious at choosing the fastest way, not the best. Not usually in that situation.

"Never seen this side of you before, Shepard. I like it," Zaeed chimed in with an approving drawl.

Garrus chose to intervene before she could shoot, lowering her arm holding the gun.

"Hold on, Jane," he said, pointing in the direction of the window. Her sapphire eyes flicked over to the volus, understanding flooding them. He figured she hadn't seen him.

He went over to the glass separating them from the volus, tapping lightly against it so as not to startle him. "Hi there, ah…could you open this up?"

They didn't have to wait long until they heard the resounding noise of the gate swooshing open.

"Much appreciated," Garrus thanked.

The volus inhaled a sharp breath before pleading with them to leave.

Garrus couldn't help the saunter in his step or the teasing smirk on his face at having resolved the situation before Jane had. His mandibles flared when he heard her murmur behind him that she could have done that if she had seen the volus.

He didn't doubt it. She was too much of a firm believer of using your weapon as a last resort. But now that Garrus knew Jane was safe (or would be, anyways) and relatively in one piece, he could indulge in feeling good at one-upping her. Just like with the sniper contests. It helped to dull the intensity of the situation.

They made their way to the landing pad, Zaeed grumbling something about how they should have been encountering more resistance. They wouldn't let up now with a shuttle en-route.

The shuttle in question was currently heading right for them and Garrus couldn't remember a time he had been happier to see a C-Sec shuttle. That relief quickly turned to dismay when the door swung open, revealing more of the same mercs, one of which held some type of heavy weapon.

Before the barrage of projectiles came their way, Garrus felt himself being pulled towards cover by Jane. Even with three of them, that heavy weapon (which seemed to be a Geth Spitfire, if he was not mistaken) along with the continuous firepower of the mercs ensured they were effectively pinned down.

"Are you happy now, Zaeed?"

"Was just stating the obvious, Vakarian," he barked over the roar of gunfire. "Next time I'll knock on wood, cross my heart."

The sound of shattering glass from above instinctively had him reaching for Jane, to tuck her underneath his body so she wouldn't get caught in the shower of shards, but a more comforting sight was above them, in the form of two (not just one, but two) krogan.

One slammed down onto the shuttle, knocking it clear to the ground. The other followed suit behind him, falling further up the shuttle without batting an eye. The mercs didn't stand a chance against their combined fury. Taking down one krogan at close range was a challenge in itself, but two? The only thing they could hope for was a quick death. Two of them weren't so fortunate, as they were pushed or kicked out the opposite door to the endless chasm below.

"Well I'll be damned," Zaeed muttered, the first one to pop out from cover.

"Wrex, Grunt," Jane greeted, not missing a beat, following Zaeed out to where the two krogan hopped off the damaged shuttle. "What are you…?"

"Just butting heads with the Council over krogan expansion," Wrex provided Jane as way of explanation for his presence on the Citadel, pausing at a merc corpse and turning him over off his stomach, revealing what he had hidden underneath him. Garrus had been right. The heavy weapon had been a Geth Spitfire, a weapon used by many heavy geth units back on Rannoch.

"Weren't you at Huerta recovering from the Rachni encounter, Grunt?" Garrus asked the younger member of Clan Urdnot.

"Yeah, was. Didn't feel like sticking around. Bumped into Wrex," he replied coyly, rotating his neck around in a full circle to loosen it up.

"If it weren't for me, Baby Pyjak here would be rotting in a C-Sec cell about now."

Endless scenarios started running through his head, one crazier than the next. Chances were Grunt had gotten in brawl with someone important, but Garrus still had to hear this from him later.

And here Garrus had thought Grunt had begun to mature.

Wrex tossed the Spitfire to Jane, who easily caught it. That reminded Garrus. He still had Jane's pistol in his possession, but she probably didn't need it, now with a heavy weapon and another pistol. He'd just have to remember to put it back with her Widow and armor as soon as they got back, have her "ooh and aww" over the mod upgrade some other time.

A boom ahead and a constant thumping of heavy boots signaled another intense fight on their hands.

"Shepard, we got a way out of here?" Wrex called.

"Wrex, she's a professional," Garrus defended, sounding offended on her behalf.

"That's not a yes, Garrus."

"Not a no."

They moved further up, back into the lot to allow them closer access to their targets. They spread out, picking the mercs apart one by one. Though Garrus found himself drifting towards Jane on more than one occasion. He didn't know why he was doing it. She could obviously handle herself without him, but he still felt compelled to watch over her. He doubted that would ever fade over time.

At some point, the icon on Garrus's Mattock changed from a green to deep red. Grunt must have activated the inferno ammo on his shotgun.

"Great place to fight in. Lots to destroy!" Wrex cackled, head-butting an unlucky merc smack on the top of his helmet. He crumbled right on top of a skycar windshield, cracking the glass.

Wrex needed to tell that to the owner. Better hope none of them got saddled for the bill for any damages to the skycars. Then again, they could always have Jane pull the "on official Spectre business" card.

"Commander, did C-Sec find you? Are you ok?" Brooks again.

"Yes and no. Mercs in a C-Sec shuttle." Jane threw an incinerate blast at two mercs. "Joker, lost our ride. Where are you?" she called over the comm.

"On my way. Picked up Brooks, figured you'd have a few questions."

"I am krogan!" he heard Grunt roar, charging at his enemy. Just like old times on Tuchanka, battling all those monsters during Grunt's Rite.

Despite the skilled fighters in their party, that did not deter the mercs or slow their numbers. The only thing they could do at this point was keep them at bay until Joker arrived.

Garrus eventually found himself with his Viper back out, taking targets out on the other side of the room. Jane appeared in his scope. With no one around him and their other squadmates handling their opponents just fine, he took that moment to take in the sight of her. She had always been a tenacious fighter on the battlefield, but there was ferocity when she swiped a merc with her omni-blade he had never seen before, even when she was clearly in pain.

Despite his worry over her straining herself, he couldn't deny how intensely attractive the sight of it was, how Jane could be such a force to be reckoned with when she wanted.

Garrus broke himself out of those more pleasant thoughts when Joker came back on the comm. "Approaching your position, Commander, just following the gunfire. Sorry I'm late. Had to take the scenic route."

"Scenic route? We nearly crashed four times. Where the hell did you learn to drive?" Brooks's voice grew shriller the longer she berated him.

"Yeah, Brooks says hi."

"The fight was just getting good," Grunt exclaimed, almost sounding disappointed at having to leave the battle so soon.

"Plenty more where this came from, junior. Just you wait," Zaeed called back mid-carnage shot with his rifle.

Joker's arrival could not have been timelier. More mercs had dropped down and they were running out of thermal clips (despite the high levels of bravado). Garrus led the charge to the shuttle, with Jane heading up the rear. Zaeed, Grunt and Wrex hopped on after him. Jane reached her hand out to Garrus and he pulled her up, though it was unnecessary to, mindful he didn't pull too forcefully. He squeezed her hand tightly and lightly patted her back with the other, relishing in this little bit of contact.

"Get us back to the apartment, Joker. Double time." She collapsed onto the seat closest to her. Though she looked like she wanted to do nothing more than lay her head back and take a breather, she maintained a straight posture.

"Roger that. Should be smooth sailing from here. Unless they hijacked more C-Sec shuttles," Joker called back to them.

"Not comforting in the least." A dark-skinned woman in an Alliance officer's dress blues stepped out from the cockpit, playing with her uniform cap in her hands.

"I'm so glad you made it out of there, Commander. And I'm sorry about earlier, Officer Vakarian, I had no idea who you were," she apologized with wide eyes when her gaze fell on him. This must have been Brooks.

Garrus waved away the tension from before, as he took his seat beside Jane. "It was a crazy situation."

Brooks then noticed Zaeed, Grunt, and Wrex on the opposite side of the shuttle. Zaeed sat, resting an elbow on his knee, while Wrex and Grunt stood. She looked to be struggling to keep her jaw from dropping at these hardened warriors. "Wow. No wonder you were able to hold out. How'd you manage to get so many to come to your aid?"

Jane shrugged. "I have a lot of friends."

* * *

_This had not been part of the plan._

_She knew the turian would show up, not resisting the urge to play the hero to Shepard's damsel in distress. But the arrival of Urdnot Wrex, the tank-bred krogan, and the bounty hunter had been completely unexpected. And baffling. _

_She had made up some excuse to Brooks that'd seem feasible to the others. It had worked, with both krogan jumping in and boasting that it was a guarantee she'd survive with their aid. _

_But in actuality, she was still struggling with that same question._

_Why would they bother coming to Shepard's rescue? Just because she had shown them favor in the past, helped them deal with their own trivial problems? Zaeed Massani was most perplexing of all. Why didn't the bounty hunter still hate Shepard for letting that Blue Suns mercenary on Zorya go? What did he owe Shepard? _

_She knew what Brooks would say about all this. She had seen the quick glance Brooks had given her before she went back to the cockpit to sit with the pilot. More people around, more chance for someone to realize something was amiss. She'd have to be doubly on her guard. _

_For the moment, no one suspected a thing. Why would they? Shepard was supposedly being targeted by people who clearly wanted her dead. Why would they expect a wolf in sheep's clothing? Any lapse in temper (like earlier with Garrus Vakarian) and she could blame it on still being on edge from the attempt on her life. _

_Or the discomfort in her ribs, which she had exaggerated to further cement the ruse, but it wasn't completely fabricated. They were still really sore, despite the heavy bone weave upgrade Brooks had given her. Would Shepard have fared better with her cybernetic enhancements? Being the spare, she hadn't been blessed with all of Cerberus's upgrades. Not that she needed them to reach __**her **__full potential. _

_She knew the excuses could only last for so long. She'd have to mind herself. She couldn't make mistakes like shooting at that locked door. Thankfully, she had had a pretext to fall back on. _

_The noise in the shuttle was limited to that of the engine, now that they were almost to Shepard's apartment. She could feel the turian's eyes on her when he thought she wouldn't notice. _

_She forced herself not to display any hint of disdain or snap at him to mind his own damn business. She saw him in that lot, how he stayed close to her, how he reached for her when the krogan arrived. She heard the distress in his voice over the comm, in person when he saw her grip her ribs, no matter if he chose to verbally acknowledge it. How could Shepard tolerate it, this overbearing concern of his, however subtle he thought himself?_

_Putting that out of her mind at the announcement of their arrival back at the Silversun Strip, she could only hope the pilot had not reached out to anyone else beyond those currently among Shepard's crew. _

_Else the trip to the Archives would have to take place sooner than anticipated. _


	7. -7-

A/N: Thanks to all those who favorited or are following this story and a big thank-you to lil-blood, Danie-Dono, m. meichiri, a guest reviewer, xBlackStars, and MacLatte for your reviews last chapter!

* * *

-7-

"Damn it," Shepard hissed in frustration. The resounding beep and error message droning at her to try entering the correct username and password again was not what she wanted to hear. Especially for the tenth time in a row.

She had exhausted all of the consoles (at least the ones still functional) on this floor. She'd have to leave its relative safety in search of another not locked down or shooting up sparks like a defective firework. Else she would be forced to wander around aimlessly for hours and hope she'd magically stumble upon the archivists or the right vault. Which had happened before, but not navigating within something of this scale.

She tested her leg again, making sure her knee wouldn't suddenly buckle once she put weight on it. Satisfied it was nothing more than bruised, she made her way to the door at the opposite end of the room. She ignored the continuously growing throb of her hand and her cheeks. She could only imagine how puffy they would be by the end of this. If she didn't see a mirror or reflective surface for the next couple of hours as far as her face was concerned, she'd be content.

She pressed her ear against the metal door, searching for the pitter-padder of footsteps outside. Finding none, she opened the door, keeping her pistol raised steady in front of her with her one functional hand. She wasn't going to be caught off guard again.

What she wouldn't give for her Widow or Predator right about now. Technically she trained to handle different models proficiently (in theory, a gun was a gun when duty called for one), but she had gotten so comfortable using them and she had just gotten her mods fine-tuned the way she liked them. Though she could have just settled for the Widow, with her recent tendency to use it as a pistol, a tendency she couldn't explain the cause behind. She had seen the cringe creep up on Garrus's face every time she did that, a sight that amused her to no end, but no one could deny it got the job done.

She used any advantage she could take from the surrounding environment to stay undercover, hugging the wall, ducking behind low level objects, utilizing those years of infiltrator training. No one should see you coming, not even a whisper. Strike before they even had time to respond.

When it came time to train in a specialization, without hesitation, she had known she wanted to train as an infiltrator. She had no experience in biotics or exposure to element zero. She really had no desire to become one either. She was good with tech, but not enough to become a specialist in it like an engineer would. That left training as a soldier or infiltrator and the powers and tactician angle of the infiltrator just appealed more to her.

She remembered how much she had struggled with it at first, when they forced the recruits to do those simulations. The hair-tearing out and close to tears kind of frustration when the VI warned she had been spotted and had to try again. This was before the creation of tactical cloaks, which would have undoubtedly made the tests a lot easier. She had come this close to changing classes and saying the hell with it, but it wasn't in her to be a quitter when the going got tough and when she put her mind to something. The final day of examination, she finally did it. Finally sighted down her target, made it across the room without being spotted, clinching her spot within the infiltrator class.

She didn't encounter any other mercs as she entered into another open room similar to the one she just left. She hid behind a desk, counting down from ten until she was sure no one was around (or at least willing to announce themselves).

With all her exposure to dead bodies over the years, she should have been less startled when she came upon one right by a desk, lifeless eyes cast towards the ceiling, red blood pooling like a lap pond beneath her and soaking her through. She didn't look like she had made it far in an attempt to escape. Probably were on her before she could even move. Why didn't she run like the others?

Her heart sunk when she spotted the picture frame on the desk. She picked it up, taking in the sight of the now dead woman, arms looped around a younger one (probably only by a few years) with the same blond hair and olive-green eyes. Perhaps they were sisters.

It didn't matter, Shepard scolded herself for her curiosity. Another family was torn apart by senseless violence and war. And day by day, Shepard was becoming powerless to stop it.

She wished she could be like Garrus, adopt the turian mantra of not being able to save them all (sure would make it easier to sleep at night). But attacks on innocent civilians had always hit too close to home, reminded her too much of Mindoir, the slaughter that was wrought that day. She had always been able to put her personal feelings aside during a mission, focused on the task at hand, but some days were more difficult than others. Going back to Eden Prime, seeing those marines gunned down surrounded by snacks, drinks and a running vid-screen had been too close for comfort, kept her shaken up days afterward.

She carefully set the photo down beside the monitor on the desk. It took Shepard a moment for it to click that the console was logged in and not malfunctioning.

Taking advantage of the lack of mercs on patrol, she punched away at the console keyboard, pulling up the search query again, typing in "Shepard" "Spectre" "biometric access log" in the search fields and hitting submit.

The result popped up a moment later and Shepard felt her luck start to turn around. Until the error message to contact the team lead or head archivist to access classified materials materialized to mock her. Guess even here the archivists had different levels of clearance. No wonder the mercs couldn't find it.

That was going to complicate things, but at least she had a plan.

She searched the interface for a map of the facility again, finding it within a few clicks. It didn't seem like the head archivist's office was too far, just up a few levels, not too many directions for her brain to try and remember in this maze.

Assuming she or he was even there or the mercs hadn't gotten the same idea first.

A flash caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She looked down at the source, the onni-tool of the dead woman lighting up and pinging.

No comm signals were going in or out of the Archives. This had to be local.

She kneeled down and lifted the woman's arm to accept the incoming vid-link.

"Sara? Sara, where are you? You were supposed to let me know when you…" The young woman stopped mid-whisper, taking in the sight of Shepard, clearly not that of her dead colleague. "You're not Sara."

Shepard recognized the blond hair pulled into loose braids cascading down to her shoulders and spirited green eyes. The woman in the photograph.

"No. I'm Commander Shepard."

The woman's eyes widened in surprise and a look of awe appeared on her face. "Commander Shepard…you're here? I'm Laura, Laura Corvo," she introduced. "I'm the assistant to the head archivist here, Dr. Shela T'Zorata. My sister's an archivist too. Sara Corvo. Have you seen her? How did you find her omni-tool?"

Shepard mentally prepped herself to break this bad news, hoping to do it as gently as possible. "Your sister didn't make it, Ms. Corvo. I found her by her desk."

Laura's face turned the pale of spoiled milk, her face contorting into a hideous mask of grief before she reined it in with a hand to her face.

"Oh, God…oh, Sara…I…I told her to run to the saferoom, I told her n-not to wait, that it wasn't just a minor thing or a f-false alarm. God…" she trailed off with a hushed sob. "What am I going to tell our mom?"

Shepard hated to push forward with this, knowing this woman needed and deserved the time to grief for her sister, but time was a luxury not on Shepard's side. "I know this is a lot to take in, Ms. Corvo, and no one is sorrier for your loss, but I need your help and Dr. T'Zorata's. The mercs who attacked are looking for something specific. My biometric access log. I can't access its location from any other terminal except hers."

"Right, because it's classified. Dr. T'Zorata l-left the saferoom to go back out to her office, try and shut down access to the vaults. T-try to get an external channel working," Laura replied between sniffles and choked breaths.

"I can head up there now. Stay hidden in the saferoom until then."

"Wait. I can send you o-our location and our comm channel…if that would help."

Shepard glanced down at what remained of her omni-tool. "My omni-tool's fried."

"Then take my sister's. She…" Laura's voice briefly stuck in her throat. "She won't need it now."

Shepard switched her dead one onto her other arm, not wanting to toss it, hoping Tali or EDI could work some tech magic and repair it. She attached Sara Corvo's onto her left arm, still maintaining the vid-link with Laura during the process. Even if it wasn't military grade and didn't come with all the fancy capabilities, at least she could lock doors and communicate with people internally.

"I'll get there as fast as I can," Shepard promised, lifting herself back up.

Laura nodded. "I'll contact Dr. T'Zorata, tell her to expect you. And Commander…" Her eyes welled up with tears. "Thank you for telling me about my sister," she thanked with a broken whisper before disconnecting the call.

Shepard scanned the area one more time, making sure no one would tail her. She grabbed the picture frame from Sara's desk. Though clutching and holding onto it with her injured hand would be a challenge, Laura would probably appreciate having this, something to remember her sister by while she waited this whole thing out.

Having Laura's coordinates and a functioning omni-tool made this process a lot faster, not having to wander around with no sense of direction for hours on end.

She still maintained a cautious pace, still took cover when entering a new open area. Only half-way there did she encounter a patrol, but she ducked into another vault until they passed, once again accidently activating it, this time a record from 693 CE.

"Beejo Gurji, you are accused of using thirty civilians as bait to flush and assassinate your target," an asari informed the contained salarian.

"I knew they'd survive. Probably," the salarian replied with a callous pause.

"You're being released. The Council wants you to implement a new special tactics and reconnaissance group."

"Desk job? No thank you," the salarian said, shutting the conversation down before it had the chance to begin.

"This is no desk job," the unknown asari assured him. "Spectres will be the best of the best. They will operate with impunity and answer only to the Council. You will be the first."

That immediately changed Gurji's tune. "Now that sounds like the best job offer in the galaxy. Count me in."

So that's how the Spectres got their glamorous start. As well as their reputation for playing loose with the law.

Though she had never admitted it to anyone, Shepard sometimes wondered whether it had been worth it, to be tapped as Spectre. Hunting and tracking Saren down was the only assignment given to her by the Council (which had been a major pain in her ass from day one). The others had all been from Hackett or doing favors from people who asked for her help. Then once she allied with Cerberus, the Council wanted to avoid her like the plague. Sure they had given her the title back, but it was merely an empty gesture, born out of a moment of gratitude for saving their lives. Now defeating the Reapers and Cerberus had become her top priority again. And the Spectres she had been exposed to (Saren, Tela Vasir) hadn't left a real positive impression. Nihlus, maybe, but she hadn't known him for long. The only one left was Jondum Bau, but again, she had only teamed up with him for one mission.

Least she could say it looked good on her resume.

"Commander! Commander, are you still there?" Laura's panic-infused voice came through the comm.

"I'm here. What's happening?"

"Something's happening with Dr. T'Zorata. I was talking to her over the comm when I heard these men come in from nowhere, asking for her, demanding to know who she was talking to. Then the comm suddenly went silent. I think she's in trouble, Commander. Please hurry!"

Shepard cursed silently for letting herself get distracted. What the hell was wrong with her? This wasn't the time for a history lesson. "Don't panic. I'm almost there."

Shepard reached the necessary elevator, taking it up the two floors to the head archivist's office. It dumped her out into a hallway, which led to a dead-end corridor across the way, with a wide right turn. Even from the entrance of the elevator, she could hear the weak cries and impatient shouts coming from within the office and she knew she had to be swift and take the chance she'd be spotted.

She crouched down as she made her way down the hallway to the first turn, staying close to the wall in case any of them popped out from the other end, listening as the voices got louder and louder.

"Who else is hiding up here, asari?"

"No one! Please, I already gave you access to the Spectre vaults. What more do you want?"

"I heard you talking to someone before we came in. Who was it?"

"Boss, it's not routing through," another merc interrupted. "It's saying we don't have correct access."

"You two-timing asari bitch!" Shepard heard the slap on skin a second later. Where did her clone drag these people up from? The bowels of the galaxy? They should have been shoved right back in them, never to see the light of day.

"Tear this floor apart. Find out where the other one is hiding," the merc growled to his companion.

"No, wait! I'll…I'll give you full access, I swear, just please leave this place!" Dr. T'Zorata begged.

"Too late, asari! We don't give second chances." She heard something slam against a hard surface, the click of a gun as it was readied to fire. "Now tell us the location of Shepard's vault!"

She finally made it to the end of the hallway. Shepard pressed herself right up against the corner of the wall, preparing to round it, realizing she still only had one bullet. She'd have to make it count.

She poked her head out in time to see through the wide open door at the end of the hall. To witness the head archivist unleash a biotic wave of energy at the two mercs. One was knocked off his feet, but the other closest to her didn't budge, unloading a round right in between her eyes without hesitation before Shepard had time to even react. To even try to stop it.

"Boss, what the hell?" the merc cried, picking himself back up as Dr. T'Zorata's body crumpled to the floor with a _thunk_.

"The other one will have the same information," the other replied with no remorse. "Now find them before I shoot your ass with her!"

There was no more time. She couldn't allow another innocent to die. She had to act now before they found Laura.

Shepard crouched back down, taking note of their positions as she hugged the wall, just as she did with the other one. Light on your feet, silent and swift, before they even sensed you were upon them, before they even felt your targeting-laser at their head or the heat of the incineration blast, her instructor had taught. Being an infiltrator was all about the element of surprise, whether at long or short range, with rifles or pistols or any of the tech abilities at their disposal.

She had to be like Thane or Kasumi, glide like glass on the floor. Operate within the shadows, let them aid her.

She placed the picture frame against the wall by the office door, checking that her pistol was ready to fire at will. She entered the office without any detection on their part, ducking behind a pillar when one turned around, commenting on how he thought he had heard something. Shepard mentally counted to ten again, listening for searching footsteps drawing near. She resumed her approach on them only when they expressed no sign of coming closer to her.

They were both feeling around the wall for a hidden panel or switch, completely unaware of her imminent approach.

Until the one closest to her unexpectedly spun around, catching her in plain view.

So much for being silent and swift.

He hurried for his pistol but not fast enough to prevent Shepard from whacking him in the head with hers, coming down on him with as much strength as she could muster. She flung herself to the floor to avoid the shots from his companion coming her way. The merc's partner wasn't so lucky, crumbling to the floor with a final groan.

Shepard had to time her shot, time it perfectly until she could get access to spare thermal clips (assuming they even had any). She did barrel-roll after barrel-roll, back and forth, bullets just grazing by, finally hopping back up to take aim. With the strength and speed of a krogan (and a roar to match), he rammed into her, flinging her against the wall close to the other fallen merc, her pistol flying from her hand at the force. Ignoring her pounding head and face, she retaliated with another krogan classic, the good ole'fashioned head butt.

And it didn't do a damn thing. Did the merc have reflexes and a skull of steel? Or was he secretly part krogan, however genetically impossible that was?

He pinned her to the wall, pressing his forearm against her windpipe. She thrashed around trying to escape his hold, but it was getting harder to think, harder to focus on anything other than the fact her air was slowly being cut off.

Suddenly his grip loosened, startled by the sudden slam of a picture frame over his head. Shepard pushed his arm away and dived for his partner's gun nearby, praying it would have more bullets than hers did. She yelled for whoever had come to her rescue to move, firing shot after shot at the merc until he finally sunk to his knees and tilted over onto his stomach.

Shepard took the moment to get her second wind back, replaying what had just happened over and over again. How did she allow herself to get pinned down like that? Was her battle rhythm that off? Did not having the cloak or incinerate or her other tech powers incapacitate her that much? What did that say about her abilities as a soldier, as this beacon of hope for the galaxy if she couldn't function without them?

It couldn't be the lack of armor. She had had that issue leaving Earth, wearing nothing but that hideous prison (or _detainment _according to Alliance officials) garb and only one pistol with limited ammunition. This was no different.

But she had been able to keep her omni-tool, on condition she not use it to escape. A woman of honor, she had agreed, but at least she had been allowed to keep it.

She had to get better about this, get her head on straight. She couldn't prove her clone right.

"I heard loud popping noises…" a mousy voice stuttered by her. "I knew, but I didn't want to…then when I heard the shouts and more gunshots, I knew you were here and I…I didn't want to see anyone else…"

Shepard glanced over at the person whose timely intervention saved her, at the fear-stricken and trembling form of Laura Corvo, clutching the broken remains of the picture of her sister and her tightly to her chest.

"Ms. Corvo…Laura, it's alright. I understand and I appreciate it." Shepard's words did nothing to thaw Laura, still frozen and transfixed on the sight of three dead bodies. "Do you need a second to yourself?"

"No, I'm ok, I…" She inhaled, tremors still making their way through her body. "I just can't believe this is really happening…Dr. T'Zorata, my sister…I mean, I knew with the Reapers and Cerberus attacking…we were never safe, but…I never thought…I mean, who would want to attack the Archives?"

Shepard could imagine what it was like for her, being lulled into a false sense of security, have everything crash down on you in an instant. Then the waiting, to get to safety or to be discovered. Again, it struck close to home, the memory of her hiding in that supply shed, waiting with bated breath and silent sobs as batarians passed by it, waiting for her chance to make a break for it.

Shepard shook away that unpleasant thought. Now wasn't the time to get caught up in bad memories.

"Someone who's determined to take over my whole life," she said instead.

Shepard went over to the fallen merc, searching around for a transmitter in his helmet. Finding none, she lifted his arm to activate his omni-tool, see what frequencies he had recently tapped into. Now that she had a working omni-tool again, wouldn't hurt to listen in on merc comm chatter.

Shepard then looked up at Dr. T'Zorata's terminal which, thanks to bullet-shaped holes in the hardware, was now non-operational. Bastard probably fired at it on purpose, so no one else could get their hands on the location of her log.

She turned back to Laura, whose gaze was still rooted to the floor. "I know I'm asking a lot, Laura, but I still need your help. Is your terminal still working?"

"N-no," she replied, finally meeting Shepard's sapphire to her olive. "It's been having all sorts of problems lately and now it won't turn back on."

Of course it wouldn't.

"But I do remember where the sensitive info on Spectres is generally kept," Laura continued, trying to sound encouraging. "I went down there once with Dr. T'Zorata. It's not much and you'd still have a lot of ground to cover…"

Shepard interrupted her from what sounded like an apology, like this whole mess was somehow her fault. If anyone was to blame, it was Shepard for taking too long, for letting this whole business with her clone get to her, but there would time enough to wallow in self-loathing later. "At this point, I'll take anything I can get."

Laura pulled up her omni-tool, transmitting the coordinates and an extensive map of the building to Sara's (now Shepard's) omni-tool.

"Are there security forces here?"

"A bit, but most were pulled out to other areas of the Citadel after the coup," she said, toying with her one braid, sounding calmer. "We had to rely on mechs and VIs, but they were probably shut down at one of the main security offices the same time the comms went offline."

That would explain why no one was rushing to the Archives's rescue or why there wasn't more resistance.

"Are there any security offices on the way?"

Laura shook her head. "The one that controls external comm channels is on the opposite end of where you need to go."

Shepard figured that would be the answer.

"Sir, what's your status? Have you found the head archivist yet? Sir?"

That definitely didn't sound good.

"Sounds like we might be expecting company. How secure is your saferoom?"

Laura tried her best not to appear frightened at the news of more mercs incoming, though her quivering body betrayed her. "I…I think it's pretty secure, but I could go somewhere else. There's a security office. Not far, not marked on any maps. Only Dr. T'Zorata and team leads knew about it. I…I could hide there." Her eyes suddenly lit up, the greenish hue deepening ever so slightly. "Maybe…maybe I could even help you. It does have a few camera feeds I could tap into."

Not that Shepard didn't appreciate the offer to help, but Laura had already done more than enough. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I'm offering. It's like you said. I'm probably the only o-one who could help you, now that Dr. T'Zorata..." Her voice trailed away, as if her throat suddenly seized up. "I...I owe it to her. And Sara," she continued, recovering.

"He's not responding. You three go up to the office, check it out," an unwelcome voice with a merc as its owner barked into her ear through her communicator.

"They're coming up. Is the elevator the only way down?"

"There's a door to a stairwell right before you reach it."

"Then go there now!" Shepard urged, directing her out of the office.

Laura nodded erratically, taking one last remorseful look at Dr. T'Zorata's body before darting down the hallway, promising to stay in contact and out of sight this time.

Shepard made one last quick sweep for extra thermal clips, not willing to leave any behind, before following Laura out. With a map and coordinates, a fresh supply of bullets, and Laura aiding her eyes and ears, maybe she'd finally be back in the game until they could contact the outside world again.


	8. -8-

A/N: Managed to get this out sooner than a month later :). Thanks to all who have favorited and are still following this story, as well as a guest reviewer and Revolution Assassin for your reviews last chapter!

* * *

-8-

They made it to the apartment without any further incidents. No high-speed chases with mercs in more C-Sec shuttles, much to Grunt's disappointment. Joker left them to meet up or track down their other squadmates while the rest of them went up to Jane's apartment to re-group.

It was a little cozy with all six of them crammed into that elevator, especially when four of those people were either aliens with bigger body structures or wore heavy armor that took up just as much space.

"Well, this is nice and cozy," Garrus remarked while pressed between Wrex's armored shoulder and the wall.

"Reminds me of being stuffed in the back of the Mako." Wrex let out a little chuckle. "Good times."

"Least we had more room to breathe." Garrus took an exaggerated deep breath and cough. "Smell's about the same, though."

"What's the matter, Garrus?" He was pretty sure Wrex was leaning more into him on purpose now. "Too much krogan musk for you to handle?"

"I wouldn't call it musk exactly." More like when roasted meat spent hours stewing in varren dung, then was left out for a few days.

Garrus felt the elevator floor stop vibrating, come to a grinding halt. Not a minute too soon, before the smell got to be too much.

They were all able to file out once Jane punched in the entrance code (which she seemed to take her sweet time in doing).

"So somebody want to tell me what the bloody hell's going on here?" Zaeed questioned once they entered the safe confines of the apartment.

"I didn't recognize those mercs," Garrus added. "Heavily armed and using C-Sec shuttles."

"I don't know," Jane agreed, leading them to the common area by the fireplace, the one closest to the door. "I've never seen them before."

Brooks had stayed quiet the rest of the journey to the apartment, but now she couldn't contain herself, pacing back and forth with wild motions of her arms. "I can't believe you survived all that. They had guns! And grenades! And those drone things!"

Jane whipped out her omni-tool. "I'm going to call Commander Bailey, see what's going on with C-Sec."

"Ok, that sounds…" Brooks paused in realization. "Wait. Wouldn't that just make whoever you contact a target too?"

A valid point. Last thing they wanted was to make Bailey more of a target than he already was. "She's right, Jane. Until we figure this out, it's a big risk."

Jane cut off the beginnings of her call. "Ok. For now, we run this ourselves."

"Right. Ourselves. On our own. Outside the law. Ok… yeah," Brooks said, starting out confident then less so the further along the sentence she went.

"Brooks, it's ok. I know it's a lot to deal with," Jane assured. Was it Garrus's imagination, or did the concern always audible (least to his heightened hearing) when talking to those in physical or emotional pain sounded more forced than usual, like it was some type of effort?

"I got shot. I've got medi-gel, but still. I took a desk job explicitly not to get shot! _And_ you killed a hundred guys, with a pistol!"

Jane's brow furrowed, looking at Brooks as if what she just listed off was no big deal. "Well, yes, that did happen."

"I mean, who does that? Well, you, I guess, besides you…" Brooks paused in her frantic pacing to face the rest of them. "They said the medi-gel might make me jumpy. Do I seem jumpy?"

Garrus glanced over at Wrex (who was closest to him), not sure whether to be brutally honest or lie through his teeth. He finally settled on a neutral shrug which Wrex mimicked. Grunt kept silent with a smirk on his face, but Garrus could spot Zaeed shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

"So how'd you get mixed up in this?" Jane asked, sounding more sincere and interested this time, more like normal. Yep, probably just imagined it before. No reason to think otherwise when she had seemed fine when they met up.

"I…monitor data for Alliance intel to prevent fraud and hacking of officer id's. Like someone using an Admiral's pass to get into a nightclub on the Citadel when that officer is fighting on Tuchanka. I wrote a tracking program. It's really neat. I named it Mr. Biscuits, after my cat."

Garrus felt the conversation steer in the direction of a tangent, but Jane brought it back with a call of Brooks's name to break her out of it.

"Sorry, Commander. Anyway, Mr. Bis…my tracking program detected a breach in your classified files. Soon, everything we had on you was compromised. Personnel files, mission reports. Everything."

"Since when does hacking personnel records involved heavy weapon fire?" Wrex demanded.

"Think of what criminals could do if they had Shepard's military access codes. Or Spectre codes, even."

"Explains why they need you dead so damn badly, Shepard," Zaeed interjected. "Nothing to stop them until the damage is done."

Jane crossed her arms, rocking on the balls of her feet. "Guess we're back on the clock."

Despite the number of people they had as an audience, Garrus couldn't help but add to lighten the mood, "And when this is over, I'm sure we'll find_ something_ to do, off the clock." Preferably involving a practiced for weeks tango dance, followed by finding the flattest surface possible away from prying eyes and not moving for quite some time.

He waited for Jane's reaction, not expecting it to be as intimate or sexual as it would be when alone, but there was nothing. Not even a twitch on her face, a spark in her normally expressive dark blue eyes.

Ok, maybe he _had_ heard that change in tone earlier right.

Something to file away for later.

"So any idea on where to start with these guys?" Jane asked the group, all business, as if Garrus hadn't said a word.

"Well, I was looking at that pistol you picked up," Garrus said, brushing off the lack of reaction, even if it was curious.

"Tiny, but it packs a punch. Never seen anything like it before. Even when running Aralakh," Grunt replied as Jane pulled it out for everyone to examine. Tiny, yes, but an impressive silencer barrel attached.

"Let me see it. I might be able to help," a new voice filled the room, its owner approaching the group with her info-drone in tow, which announced it would begin to collate relevant intel for review.

"Liara," Jane greeted.

"Jane. I'm relieved to see you in one piece. A shame about the sushi place, though. It was a favorite."

Jane rubbed her neck, taking a cue from one of Garrus's nervous ticks. Maybe he was starting to rub off on her. "So I hear."

"Alright, Liara's on point," Wrex said. "What about the rest of the crew?"

"Yeah, what about those slackers?"

"Joker," Jane greeted their newest arrival like a hostess greeting everyone who arrived to her fancy party. "You've been busy."

"Turns out I found some folks who actually like being shot at," Joker said, turning to the approaching figures streaming in through the door behind him, gesturing to them with a sweeping motion of his hand.

Being led in by someone whom Garrus hadn't expected to see again so soon, not after having parted two days before. Her flowing black hair and white with black accents and skin-tight outfit were unmistakable. As was the other human bringing up the rear, his black armor once proudly bearing the Cerberus insignia on its breast.

"Permission to come abroad, Shepard?"

Another happy family reunion.

* * *

Garrus got over the shock at seeing Miranda and Jacob with Tali, James, Ash, Javik, Cortez and EDI fairly quickly. At this point, more people on this loyal to Jane, the faster they could figure this out. To borrow a human expression, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever a horse was.

Liara and Glyph went to run their analysis on the gun, Brooks choosing to go with them, watch them work. Jane expressed a desire to go upstairs for a moment, freshen up, take some painkillers, and check on the state of her cuts and bruises, make sure they weren't worse than they felt. Joker made sure not to leave Jane without a passing remark about not forgetting about being used as bait and how a major talk was coming her way after this was all settled.

Jane headed to the stairs that passed over the plants behind that shiny glass wall fixture Garrus admired while everyone else dispersed to where Zaeed, Grunt and Wrex were. Instead of going up the stairs, Jane curiously went past them to the bedroom on the ground floor. Definitely not where she put her things. Maybe she had placed a few things there before he came, but her bag hadn't looked disturbed or emptied in any way.

Garrus went over to her, quietly calling out to her. "Uh, Jane…your stuff's still upstairs with mine, in the bedroom with that huge tub," he said, pointing up.

Jane stopped in her tracks, turning around at his call. "Right. Thanks, big guy, just spaced for a second," she said, not making eye-contact while she hurriedly made her way to the stairs before Garrus could get another word in. Leaving him to wonder how she could possibly forget something like that when there was only one bedroom with a huge, bubbling, _very inviting_, Jacuzzi tub. Kind of a stand-out feature.

Apparently he wasn't the only one to think it odd, as Tali went over to him. She hadn't gone over to the couches yet and saw the whole exchange. "Strange. Jane usually doesn't forget things like that."

Garrus's thoughts exactly, but he wasn't going to voice anything to Tali about what he had noticed. Not yet. Not until he was sure it was something to be concerned about.

Weird thing was she had seemed fine (as fine as could be expected after a merc band tried to ambush her) when he met up with her. Except for trying to shoot that door open, but he was positive she just hadn't seen the volus. And her getting impatient when asking about her injuries, but that had been known to make her cranky from time to time.

He had to stop over-analyzing every little thing about Jane's mood. He didn't expect Jane to be super-human and always mask when she was tired or in pain or frustrated. In fact, she sometimes had the opposite problem of trying to_ hide_ it from them. And she hadn't lashed out or done anything completely out of character. After everything that had happened during this war, so close to the final push, maybe finding out yet another group or person was out for her blood was causing her to feel out of sorts. A plausible theory if there ever was one.

Yet why wouldn't the little voice in his head leave it alone?

"Probably just still wired and sore, is all," Garrus said instead. "She hasn't really had a time to catch her breath lately."

Tali hummed in agreement. "You're probably right. I just hope she can get some rest for a few days without another major crisis popping up. I mean, once this is dealt with."

"Trust me, I'm gonna make sure of that." Keeping their commander happy and as stress-free as possible was one of his self-assigned duties, one he wasn't sure he was succeeding all that much at lately. But that would change with this shore leave.

They made their way over to where the others had gathered, Tali positioning herself behind the couch that had its back to the window, Garrus taking back his old spot beside Wrex. They had walked in on EDI asking Miranda how she and Jacob heard about Jane being in trouble.

"We had bumped into each other on the Presidium and decided to get some dinner at the sushi place on the strip, being something of a favorite for both of us. We started hearing word about it being closed near the strip, something about a disturbance."

Joker snorted. "Yeah, if you count bullets as just as a disturbance. More like a fully-armed raid."

"We didn't know about Shepard until we bumped into Joker on the way there. He filled us in, we met up with the rest of you guys and here we are," Jacob finished.

"Speaking of the restaurant attack, it has made the nightly newscast. Civilian casualties seem to have been restricted to…fish," EDI informed, the pause exposing her amazement.

"How could anyone even get to them? The fish are sealed in a glass tank," Miranda said.

"When the mercs fired on Shepard, the glass under her exploded and she fell right through," EDI explained.

Miranda shook her head, her strands bouncing with the movement. "Why am I not surprised? Executing marine life seems to have become some sort of hobby with her."

"You think we should have seen the writing on the wall when she ran over those pyjaks on Eletania?" Ash directed to the former SR-1 squadmates.

"Keelah, I remember that. Poor monkeys."

"Little bastards got what was coming to them. Always having to scavenge anything they can find," Wrex said, brushing off any sympathy for those four-limbed creatures. Not surprising since they were a constant headache on Tuchanka.

"Least she was really broken up about it," Garrus jumped to Jane's defense. "And she wouldn't have hit them if she hadn't jumped that rock."

Which was actually a constant statement associated with Jane's infamous driving.

"Wait, am I missing something?" James asked when he noticed the knowing or amused looks on some faces of all those unfortunate to experience being in a vehicle with Jane behind the wheel.

"Yeah, want to clue us in?"

Joker smacked his lips. "A history of Shepard's driving escapades is more than we have time for, guys. But let's just say, Cortez, you'd better not get sick or seriously injured. Ever."

Jane piloting a shuttle in or out of a hot LZ? Garrus would have willingly hopped into a Mako and agreed to catapult every mountain they came across than go through that experience.

"You know, it's actually really sad. Back during my pilgrimage, I used to walk around near that sushi place and watch the fish through the window," Tali said, directing the conversation back to the fate of the fish. "I knew they'd never let me inside. But I think to myself, "Someday, when I've proven my worth to the galaxy, I'll go there for dinner." And then, Jane broke their floor," Tali ended her dramatic monologue on a solemn note.

"Do they even have food you can eat there?" Garrus asked, the thought just occurring to him, not really recalling anything on the menu that was quarian friendly.

"Not the point, Garrus."

Garrus had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when Javik began on his "in my cycle" routine. He'd be a rich turian if he had a credit for every time Javik began and/or ended a sentence with that phrase.

"In my cycle, when we fled combat by falling down tanks containing aquatic animals, we usually…oh right, we never did," Javik said, letting out an uncharacteristic cackle. "The Commander is a trailblazer!"

On that, Garrus was sure everyone could agree.

"So what the hell are you supposed to be?" Grunt took in Javik for the first time. It suddenly occurred to Garrus that everyone in the group may have heard of each other, but not necessarily met or spent much time around each other. Anytime Grunt spent on the Normandy had been confined to the medbay, Jacob and the other ex-Cerberus scientists and their families hadn't stayed on the Normandy, nor had Miranda or her sister. And Jane had met up with Zaeed on the Citadel.

This could make for some interesting times.

"50,000 years older than you, tank-bred krogan." Course Javik would have put the pieces together and figured out who Grunt was. Garrus briefly wondered if he snuck a quick tap on the shoulder when Grunt wasn't looking or if it had just been good ole'fashioned deduction. Or maybe he was giving Javik too much credit and Joker had told the rest of the crew they had met up with Wrex, Grunt and Zaeed.

"Don't mind him. That's just our real, live, mind-reading, talking Prothean we found on Eden Prime. He goes by Prothy the Prothean. Or Buggy if you're James."

Javik was the furthest thing from amused, though he always had the same expression of contempt on his face. "Would you prefer to be thrown out of an airlock now or later, Joker-pilot?"

"Can there a third option where I don't get shoved out of an airlock? Kinda got a lot going for me right now."

"Sound like things got pretty hot out there," Cortez said, changing the subject before Javik actually attempted to space Joker off the Citadel.

"They came prepared, I'll give them that," Garrus said.

"Least you guys had two krogan come back you up. Nothing beats having a krogan bodyguard. Had a buddy like that once. No, not really a buddy, more like a prisoner who helped us." When many gave James questioning looks, he trailed off with an awkward laugh. "It's a long story, guys."

"But bet you never saw a shuttle get taken down like that, huh, Garrus? I still got it," Wrex said with well-earned smugness. Garrus couldn't say he had, even during their Saren days. Despite their firm exoskeletons, a turian trying that stunt still probably would have broken an arm, a leg, probably every bone in their body.

"Don't listen to this fossil. He wouldn't have come close to knocking it down without me," Grunt bragged.

"Careful, Baby Pyjak. Wouldn't want to end up in a C-Sec cell, would you?"

Garrus was probably going to regret asking this, but his curiosity had to be sated. "That reminds me. What exactly did you do, Grunt?"

"I don't know. I drank a bit, left the hospital, broke a few windows," Grunt said, still being coy with his shifting eyes.

"It matters if you are going to bring unwanted attention on us." Good to see Miranda asserting herself as the responsible (or severe the verdict of the SR-2 would have been during the suicide mission) second-in-command.

"Fine. A couple of squadmates broke me out of the hospital for my birthday, tried lowering me down the side of the building on a rope. It…didn't work out."

He knew it wasn't supposed to be funny, but he had to fight back the chuckle at the image of Grunt falling out a window, arms flailing around in a comical fashion.

"I was unaware birthdays were a major celebration with krogan. Otherwise I would have marked it down in the Normandy calendar," EDI stated.

"They're usually nothing fancy. No cake, no presents. Just lots of drinking, head-butting, the occasional fight to the death. And lots of things usually get broken," Wrex said, making it seem much more fun than it sounded.

"And it doesn't matter. I don't have one. I'm tank-bred, remember?" Not like anyone could forget that fact. "Anyway, we got some pictures on the krogan memorial in the Presidium. When C-Sec got there, they were mad." Grunt paused to scratch at the shell on his head. "Or maybe they were mad about their car being on fire. Can't remember."

"Wait a minute. Back up," Joker said, his hands mimicking that of motioning a car to back-up into a free space. "The C-Sec shuttle randomly caught fire?"

"I threw my bottle of ryncol at it. Pretty strong stuff," Grunt chuckled. "Went up like a bonfire."

Garrus could take a wild guess the C-Sec agents did not find it as amusing as Grunt did about their car being set on fire.

"So that's it, then? Nothing else happened?" Miranda asked.

"Nope. Gets better. They took the car on a little joyride," Wrex replied, sounding like a father boasting of his son's latest accomplishment.

"Yeah. We didn't get every far before they shot us down. Sprayed us down with riot foam. Didn't work so well on me."

"And why was that?" Garrus had to ask.

"Cause I was on fire, you know, from the car?" Grunt said as if it was the most routine thing in the galaxy to be set on fire and walk away without any scorch marks. "Come on, Garrus, keep up."

"And here comes the best part," Wrex said, barely containing his amusement.

"Why? How did they finally catch you?" Tali asked.

Grunt shrugged. "Got hungry. Bought some noodles."

Garrus had to admit. That was one of the greatest endings to a tale of drunken exploits he had heard in quite some time.

Zaeed agreed, slapping his knee in perfect timing with his low chortle. "You got a quad on you, junior, I'll give you that."

Miranda did not find it as funny as Zaeed, her plumpish lips pursing into a disapproving frown. "C-Sec isn't going to come after us because of this, are they?"

Wrex chose to intervene on behalf of his fellow krogan. "Relax. I got them off his back, said he was on an important mission for Clan Urdnot."

"And they believed you, Wrex?" Garrus asked.

"They weren't given much of a choice. I also threw in taking it up with Shepard if they had a problem."

The frown on Miranda's face grew. "That's the last thing she's going to want to deal with."

"Might still want to tell her. Least it would give her something to laugh about. You know, if she's still not too stressed to enjoy it," Joker commented.

"So we have any idea on who these guys are?" Jacob asked, sitting down on the armrest of one of the chairs.

Garrus shook his head. "No clue. That's why we have our information broker on the case."

"And if anyone can shift through a mountain of boring stuff to find that one critical clue, it's Liara," Ash agreed.

"We're sure it wasn't Cerberus?"

"Thought the same myself, but if they were, the Illusive Man's decided to take up armor design in his spare time," Zaeed replied, deciding to stretch his legs out and put his feet up on the coffee table.

"The logo and armor design are the originals. They haven't changed much overtime and I doubt he's focused on much else than trying to control the Reapers," Miranda replied, unable to hide her disappointment at the Illusive Man's actions. Garrus had to imagine it had been hard for her, after believing in Cerberus and the Illusive Man for so long, to finally see the truth and get away. "By the way, I thought you were still under contract with them."

Zaeed promptly lowered his feet back down to the floor at her words. "Things change," he replied, sounding just as resistant to admitting what the mission was as he had been to Garrus.

It was then Glyph floated over to them, informing that Liara was close to finding what she needed and would be calling the team together soon. Miranda decided to go over and ask Liara for specifics. Always had to have her finger on the pulse of everything.

Garrus was then fully reminded of the weight still on his back and the gun still holstered at his side. He broke away from the group, ready to get the extra weight off and give Jane her pistol back, when he spotted James trailing him to the stairs

"Hey, Scars, sorry your evening's ruined. Was really looking forward to seeing you nail those moves," James said as quietly as he could so as not to be overheard. With how high the ceilings were, sound probably could carry throughout the first floor. Not it mattered. Half the people there knew anyway, apparently.

So was Garrus, but he was more concerned with stopping this newest threat against Jane. "There are other evenings," he replied as they climbed.

"Suppose so. Still got a few days before we take it to the Illusive Man. Anyway, just let me know when you wanna do it and I'll be there."

Garrus entered into the bedroom, not seeing Jane anywhere, not even in the bathroom. She must have already gone downstairs to check on progress from the other side, coming down the same time he was going up. He didn't see her civvies anywhere, probably chose to stay in them.

He laid his weapons down on the bench, knowing they would probably need them again soon, and put Jane's pistol back in her bag. James stayed by the doorway, following Garrus back down the same way they came up. James drifted towards the kitchen once back on the first floor, his eyes lighting up with interest at the shy, tall, dark-haired and skinned woman who was standing next to Miranda, across from Jane, Liara and Glyph.

"Brooks, she's kinda cute. Think she's on the market?"

"Positive you have that good of a chance, Vega?"

James flexed one of his arms, lifting an invisible weight with it. "These guns have made women swoon to the floor in a heap, amigo."

"Talk to me after you try that on Ash or Miranda."

"Who says I haven't?" The joking smile then slipped from his face. "But seriously, I try not to fraternize with military women. The two don't seem to go well together. And I'd rather not end up getting my ass kicked, biotically or otherwise. _And_ you didn't answer my question."

"One woman kind of turian, James."

"I know, I know, and Lola's one of a kind. Doesn't mean you can't appreciate the scenery every now and then."

He spared Brooks a glimpse, not wanting to see stalkerish by analyzing her for too long. He tried to see what James saw now, but nothing was clicking. When he had started his relationship with Jane, he had made it clear that he didn't have a fetish for humans. That stayed true whenever he spotted human females or asari that human males practically tripped over themselves for. Especially when part of the bumps on their chests were showing. He never had the same reaction, understood the attraction.

But Jane, as he focused on those enticing curves of hers those civvies showed off (seriously how could he not have noticed before?). Oh, he definitely had a fetish for her and there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't thank whatever higher power existed that she felt the same.

He answered James he was quite content with looking at the view directly in front of him.

"I think we finally have something," Liara called out, motioning everyone to join the four of them at the table, breaking up their conversation.

Garrus and James were one of the first ones at the table, coming in just as Jane was asking Brooks whether she had been with Liara the whole time she was upstairs.

"I wanted to watch Dr. T'Soni work. It's…inspiring."

Garrus caught Miranda sending Brooks an inquisitive look, finally looking away with a shake of her head. What the hell was that about?

Liara granted Brooks a bashful smile, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "I just like to be thorough," she dismissed the compliment with sincere modesty. Even after becoming a hardened information broker, good to see traces of the old Liara still existed.

Liara waited until everyone was settled around the table (which Garrus had just noticed had an exact replica of the Normandy on top of it) to show off her findings.

"We have a lead. I called in some favors to run a trace on the gun. It led me to a casino owner named Elijah Khan. He's been suspected of using his profits to smuggle weapons onto the Citadel. Immediately after the attempt on Shepard's life, Khan made an interesting call." Liara launched her omni-tool, pulling up a visual frequency of the call. Garrus kept his eyes on the visual aid, even though there was no video feed.

"I'm cutting you off. I'm returning your down-payment now," an agitated voice growled to the person at the other end, most likely Khan.

"What's the problem?" The other voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, like it was going through a synthetic filter.

"Turn on a vid-screen. When I sell a gun, I don't want it showing up on the nightly news."

"You won't be linked to me."

"Save it. Our association is terminated. And if you even think of coming after me, I got info on you ready for primetime, so you ponder that. Khan out."

"That must be the identity thief," Miranda stated the obvious to the group.

"Sounds like he's got an id disguiser," Garrus added. "Those things are a pain in the ass to get around."

Jane went on to ask Liara about the mercs who attacked them. Liara revealed they were the private military group called CAT-6, which also happened to be a nickname for Alliance marines with dishonorable discharges. Needlessly to say, most if not all had criminal records.

Ash asked Liara how she was able to get the intel. Liara listed off her sources from weapons biometic data, salarian intelligence, then not even batting an eye when she stated the hanar prostitute with camera implants.

"Seriously?" Ash asked, unable to hide her skepticism.

"No. But the truth is boring."

"Khan didn't sound friendly to whomever that voice was," Jane pointed out. "Maybe he'd pass on that info to us."

"That'll take some extremely smooth talking," Liara said. "If he sees you, he'll probably assume you're looking for revenge. The casino has a panic room. Chances are he'll have gone to ground there. EDI can give us a program to hack the door, but the cameras and guards complicate things."

"Yeah. Khan could disappear," Brooks replied. "Or worse, if his guards ever opened fire, normal people could get hit. Like I did," she finished, the tenor of those last words making her seem smaller than she was.

"She's right," Jane agreed. "We can't risk spooking him. We go in quiet, small team, no gun play."

Glpyh then materialized in front of Liara, informing her of a charity gala conveniently being held that evening at the casino for war refugees.

"Purchase some tickets, Glyph, then call up a lay-out of the building."

"Score," Joker said, pounding his fist into his palm as the holo-image of the casino appeared in the center of the table over the Normandy statue. "So how close can you get? You usually don't put a backdoor in a panic room."

EDI informed them that the airshaft (Garrus swore he could hear Tali groan at the mention of an airshaft) could bypass the security gate and end up in storage. From there, it was just a simple matter of disabling the panic room's camera.

"Too convenient," Jacob said, pointing at the glowing point in the holo-image. "There's going to be alarms all over that shaft."

"I believe I have some counter measures that may help," Liara said. "I'll know more once we're inside."

"So who is going into the shaft? They would have to be small in size," Javik asking the question on everyone's mind.

"Not me. Too many snacks of roast varren leg," Wrex replied, though no one (Wrex probably included) actually thought him a legitimate volunteer.

"Neither Jacob nor I can go," Miranda said. "We can't have anyone recognizing us as former Cerberus operatives and draw negative attention."

"And I don't know I'd be able to shut the alarms down fast enough. You need someone who's specialized in tech," Ash put in.

Many eyes naturally shifted over to Tali, who argued that her suit's built in-tech would be picked up by security sensors. "And I am in no hurry to get inside another air vent. Ever again."

"You made it out in one piece."

Garrus could feel the heat of Tali's glare through her helmet as she leveled it at him. "I almost got set on fire."

"What about EDI? Couldn't she go?" Joker suggested.

"I suspect my presence at the casino would arouse suspicion. Mechs are not allowed, since they can have cheating software."

"What you need is someone trained in zero-emissions tech," Brooks offered. "No electronics, no metal, just undetectable polymers. We had this course in Op-int, disabling a bomb with these tiny tweezers. See the bomb was filled with shaving cream…"

"Ok. You're in," Jane said, in that tone of hers whenever she had her mind set on something.

"No…what?" Brooks was shaking her head. "No!"

"You said it yourself. We all got too much tech."

Brooks's head spun around, seemingly searching for someone who would agree sending her was a bad idea, but she wasn't having any luck. Jane was right. Brooks was really the only one who could do this.

"But…but I managed to get shot just coming to talk to you. Now I'm supposed to hack my way into a saferoom?"

"We'll be backing you up. As soon as you hit something you can't handle, we'll cover you."

Liara tapped at her omni-tool, the holo-image of the casino dispersing in a blur. "Well, if that's settled, there's one last hurtle to get us inside."

Jane turned to face Liara. "Which is?"

"Black tie required."

* * *

_Things were not going in their favor._

_It took every ounce of self-control to keep herself from unleashing a torrent of anger at hearing that call played back. When Khan had called her on the way to the skycar lot, she knew he would have to dealt with for his threat, but not this soon. Now Khan's conscience-driven call had put this entire plan into jeopardy. If they got to him at the casino, saw Brooks with them, their ruse would be uncovered. Brooks played along well, immediately understood the need for her to go. It wasn't surprising. They were cut from the same cloth. She knew he had to be eliminated. Now. Before anyone was the wiser. _

_Or Lawson or Taylor figured out who Brooks was. Damn that pilot for stumbling upon them! Though from what she heard, Brooks only dealt with Lawson a few times, only once in person, and never with Taylor. At least they were fortunate she hadn't automatically recognized Brooks. _

_Again, the other members of Shepard's team came to help her, willingly, without being asked, threatened or cajoled to. She still couldn't understand it. How was Shepard able to maintain that level of loyalty, cause someone to willingly put their own lives at risk and become the targets of an unknown merc gang just to save one woman? Was Shepard truly that special, that worth saving?_

_She was starting to think she would never find the answers she was seeking. Nothing was clearer, still just as blurry as when she met up with the pilot at the sushi place._

_But a matter for later. Now came the other decision. Who was going with her and Brooks to the casino? _

_She could sense Vakarian already starting to ask questions to himself. Her going to the wrong bedroom, her attempt to sound just as sickeningly reassuring to others as she imagined Shepard to be, her lack of reaction as his poor attempts at humor. She couldn't risk anymore exposure to him than necessary (or the rest of Shepard's team, for that matter; she still was not off the hook with the pilot for using him as bait), but if she was going to blend in, pretend everything was still fine, she'd have to take him, pretend they were just an ordinary couple out for a night on the town._

_The thought sickened her to her core. Shepard was supposed to be a symbol for humanity, not in bed with a species theirs had been at war with not even half a century ago. Any of these poor excuses for soldiers would have been better if she needed someone to release tension with._

_She informed everyone she'd take the turian while everyone else stayed there and waited for their next plan of attack. The group dispersed and she headed back upstairs to check whether Shepard had brought a dress with her. The quarian tried to follow, ask her if she was doing alright, but she left her with nothing more than a few encouraging words that she was fine, doing better now that things had calmed down. Now she had to be on her guard with her too._

_Surprisingly, the turian did not follow her up yet, though she knew he wouldn't be far behind. She strolled up the stairs with purpose, bending down to search through Shepard's bag, not feeling as much discomfort. The painkillers she had with her were beginning to work their magic._

_A Widow and Predator (she could barely contain the sneer at Shepard using such a primitive pistol), a datapad, an N7 hoodie and black pants, changes in underwear, shirts and pants, a toiletry bag, and a nightgown that was clearly meant to show off assets for the turian's enjoyment were the only things there. _

_No dress or even dress shoes to be found. And Brooks didn't have anything either._

_The others would insist purchasing them via the extranet and having it delivered or having someone else go out to make the purchases, not wanting to risk Shepard being attacked again before they got the casino. That meant more time of forced interaction, more time in this apartment with Shepard's supposed friends and lover. _

_This was not turning out like she thought it would. Not she'd ever admit to Brooks. A good leader never shows weakness._

_But just for this, she'd order Brooks to shoot Khan two-times over. _


End file.
